


Sins of the Lazy

by TrasBen



Series: Skeleton Shipping [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Body insecurity, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Red is also kid genius but it's a secret, Sans is kid genius, cross-dressing, fell gaster is bad dadster, just go with it, malicious flirting, red is a lil bit of a crybaby, red is an ass at first, sans is an ass at first, step-mom frisk, the feelings are starting, they're mean to each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2020-07-19 19:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 43,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen
Summary: High School AU.Red is a delinquent student who has been just barely skating by... until he's accused of cheating by a new teacher, and things get a little ugly.Sans is a Straight-A student who needs volunteer hours in order to graduate and enter the college of his dreams.The arrangement is supposed to be beneficial to both of them... but are their temperaments too different for it to work?[note that i'm currently editing the tense of this fic, so tense may vary from chapter to chapter. i know it's a lil weird, please bear with me ^^;]





	1. introduction

Sweat slowly trickles down Red’s spine, his father’s glare feeling as though it's physically burning through him.

“ - Which is why I called you in today, Mr. Fellster.” The calculus teacher concludes, folding his hands in his lap and giving Red a smug look. The asshole. He’s hated Red since day one of the school year - not to say that Red has given him any reason not to.

He’s been either tardy or skipped class entirely, and on the rare days he's in class on time and stays throughout the lesson, he's either on his phone or sleeping. His grades won't let you believe it, if you haven't seen it for yourself. He's a Straight A student, acing every assignment.

The ass has finally found a way to pin Red, though. He’s dredged up accusations of cheating out of nowhere, and slapped them onto Red, calling his academic integrity into question. Loathe as he is to admit it, Red knows the case against him is good. He's practically truant with his attendance record, not to mention that his disciplinary file is thicker than an encyclopedia.

How could a delinquent like him get grades like he did?

And of course cheating was a huge ass violation of his student conduct, so here he is, in a parent-teacher meeting supervised by the fucking principal (Ass-gore) as the man who’s had it out for Red from the start makes his convincing case.

He's _so self-assured_ , the stupid human teacher. Red can only wonder if he knows the consequences of his actions.

Of course the bastard doesn't have anything to worry about.

It's Red who should be scared.

His father is _not_ a kind man, least of all to his bastard son. Red has the scars and chips _and gold fucking fake tooth_ to prove it.

_and to think,_ Red internally dreads, _those were for simply existing._

_what would he do to red now that he’s blemished his father’s reputation?_

“Well, I must say.” Wing’s voice is low and smooth, sounding almost musical to the unpracticed ear. Red knows better. His father is livid, and hiding behind false pleasantries. “This is quite a surprise. I’m glad you’ve informed me so we can discuss the… _next step_.”

Both the teacher, Mr. Cooper, and the principal nod sagely.

“Of course, Mr. Fellster,” Mr. Cooper continues, “as I was saying, under normal circumstances, I _would_ automatically fail any student who’d committed the same infractions as your son,”

Wing grits his sharp teeth at that.

“I think an exception can be made due to your… unique position, as the royal scientist.”

That brings a grin to his face. It is not a nice grin. It is a grin borne of narcissism and dark amusement.

“How agreeable. I’m inclined to take this offer, which is…?”

“Tutoring!” Mr. Cooper replies happily. “I already have a student in mind, who I’m sure wouldn’t pass up the chance to help out a fellow student! Your son will be in good hands, Mr. Fellster, I’m sure. He’s already received an offer for a full-ride scholarship from Ebott University should he take it. Sans Gaster.”

Red almost starts crying on the spot.

He doesn't, of course. That would look bad on his father. And it wouldn’t be very good for the reputation he’s built up at this school - not to mention with this teacher.

This teacher who’s just unknowingly signed Red’s death warrant.

Sans Gaster. Son of Dings Gaster, owner of Core.Inc.

The company Red’s father, Wing Fellster, had helped to create. Centered around the invention he’d helped build - The Core.

Very few people know that fact, though. Wing had given up his half of the company after an unfortunate series of events in order to take up his position as royal scientist. A position both Dings Gaster and Wing Fellster had fought tooth and nail for.

A rivalry had been settled. Wing was bitter. A friendship was broken.

And an enemy made.

To this day, even mentioning anything related to Gaster or The Core sends Red’s father into a fit of angry hysteria. The news that the school has set up _Red_ , Wing Fellster’s son, bastard or no, to be tutored by _Sans Gaster i_ s practically like having his face spit on.

Wing is _fuming_.

Again, it's unbeknownst to their audience. They don’t notice the way Wing’s eye lights flare dangerously. The way he grips the arms of the chair he's sat in. The angry buzz of magic that has started up.

Red knows that he's dead.

There was no way he’ll survive Wing’s embarrassment. He looks down for the rest of the meeting, wherein his father and teacher arrange study dates and rules.

Every day after school for two hours.

Red must attend or state a valid reason for not being able to, or else he would be immediately failed and kicked out of school for academic dishonesty.

His tutor - _Sans Gaster_ , would be sending the teacher weekly reports on progress.

Red’s father agrees. The two adults shake hands, giving each other equally fake and disturbing grins as they part ways.

He is ushered out by his father - who is much taller than his pathetic five foot frame. Red walks like a robot, nearly paralyzed in fear as his father pretends to gently scolded him.

Red wants to scream. He wants to yell for help. He wants to run back into the room and beg, _beg_ for someone to take him away from the maniac he called a father. 

Even more than that, though, he wants to sink into the ground and give up. To curl into a tiny ball and stop existing, because it's likely to be less painful than what Wing has in store for him.

Red sits in that state the entire car ride home. He walks into his house, a large, intimidating building that exists purely to stroke his father’s ego, and stands in the entryway.

Behind him is his father. He can feel the presence at his back like a draft.

“Red,” He breathes. “I’ve done so much for you, so much that I didn’t have to.”

The small skeleton stays where he is, not daring to turn around. Faintly, he can hear his own bones rattling. The walls feel like they're closing in on him.

“I could have left your whore mother to rot. I could have let you dust on the streets like the trash you are. I didn’t, though, did I?” Wing’s volume slowly rises as he continues, “I took her _and_ you in, let her play house for a few years…”

“But you can’t fix trash, I suppose.”

Red cries out as Wing grabbed his upper arm, pulling him back harshly. For the first time since he’s entered the house, Red looks back at his father.

“That’s right, _son_. Look at me when I talk to you.”

\----------------

“you’re joking.” Sans’ voice borders on hysterical as he looks at the principal, gaze dead set on the other’s eyes.

Normally… Sans would make a few puns to defuse the situation, sprinkle in a few good winks, and get his way.

…. He's a little too far gone right now to even _think_ of remaining level headed, though.

This _i_ _s_ his high school graduation they're talking about.

“Mr. Gaster, I assure you that I would never joke about this matter.”

_yeah, well_ , Sans thinks to himself (perhaps unfairly), _ass-gore’s jokes always sucked, anyways._

“... community service hours? i don’t have enough _community service hours_ to graduate??”

“That is correct, Sans.”

_using my name like we’re buds - we’re NOT buds…._

Taking a deep breath, Sans closes his sockets, hoping to find some sort of divine revelation inscribed on the inside of his bony-eyelids.

Fat chance as it was, _nada_.

_damn._

“i-i was unaware that we, uh, _needed_? community service hours.” Sans replies, opening his sockets back up and once again looking into those goat-eyes.

Freakin’ Asgore.

“It’s a new program we’re doing, to connect the youth with the community - “

Sans is about three seconds away from telling Asgore that his ‘youthful’ foot is going to be connecting with _something else_ if he doesn’t get to the point -

“All you need is fifty hours.”

“that’s??? like??? over two days straight???”

“On the contrary, Sans,” Asgore’s _entire_ demeanor shifts from sympathetic principal to overeager _puppy_ in two seconds flat. “It goes by quicker than you would think - we have a senior that’s already logged _four hundred_ hours over the course of their high school career.”

_??????_

“b-but, i only gotta log fifty ta pass, right?”

“Yes, well, but since you’ve gotten all of your required credits, you’re in a unique position with a lot of free time! I know we only have a semester left, but you have plenty of time to come up with the fifty hours!”

Sans knows that time isn’t the issue. Sans is simply a very, very lazy monster.

There's just _no way_ Sans is going to be able to muster up the will and self-control to actually _look_ for volunteer opportunities, let alone _commit_!

He is so _fucked_!

How is he going to pass high school??

All of the colleges he has lined up - especially the nearby institute, the one _world renowned_ for their science program, the one _Sans had been accepted into last week_ \- poof away.

A knock comes at the door. Asgore brightens.

“That must be him! Come in, Gerald!”

And in walks a human man, probably in his mid-forties. His face is clean shaven and he wears large glasses that hide his eyes. It was… Mr. Cooper? One of the math teachers, Sans knows. He’s never personally had a class with him, but according to other students, he's an okay teacher.

He grins at Sans, and Sans would have been inclined to at least offer a polite smile back if it isn’t for how… _over happy_ the smile was. It creeps Sans out.

“As I was saying, Sans, Mr. Cooper here has come up with a brilliant solution!”

“oh, yeh?” Sans mumbles, shooting the teacher a slightly curious look.

Mr. Cooper, much too happy to be talking about Sans almost failing, blinks a few times before speaking. “I heard about your situation, and of course I was quite worried, you _are_ the school’s star student, after all. It just so happens that another situation has come up, and I wanted your help with it…”

_sounds like work… gonna have t’letcha down, bud…_

Sans lets Mr. Cooper talk on, though, internally screaming.

“I’ve recently come across what I believe to be a rather nasty case of cheating - “

“guess that’s a chat fer you an’ your girlfriend, then, huh?”

Mr. Cooper stops for a second, brain processing the joke before he barks out a short laugh.

“Good one, I heard you were a joker, but I mean in the case of academics…”

Asgore nods for Mr. Cooper to go on.

“Another student, a Junior, has been caught out, I guess you could say. I’ve come up with a deal, though, wherein he’d be allowed to pass as long as he went to daily tutoring - “

The teacher goes on to describe the deal, wherein Sans would spend everyday after school for two hours tutoring some kid, then turn in a report every Friday about progress.

Sans has to admit that the deal is tempting - his lazy ass is already internally complaining about the work, but the math adds up. If he takes this deal, he can get all of his required hours in a little over a month.

“If he misses a day and fails to inform you of a _valid_ reason as to why, you must report it, and he will instantly fail.”

Okay, sounds harsh, but this kid is a cheater, anyways.

“And another thing,” Mr. Cooper looks serious all of the sudden, all traces of excitement gone. “If _you_ skip a day or back out halfway through, you don’t get the hours.”

“a-and how long didja say this was for?”

“The rest of the semester, until May 20th.”

It is currently January 15th.

Sans internally deliberates - on one hand, he just had his opportunity to pass handed to him on a silver fucking platter.

On the other… Sans really doesn’t want to spend his afternoons tutoring some jackass for five months.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you! You’ll still get your hours if the student quits!”

Sans, for once, grins back at the teacher.

Well, that simplifies things. All Sans has to do is get his hours then bump off whichever asshole decided to try and cheat the system.

“‘lright. i’ll do it.”

“Great! You’ll start tomorrow.”


	2. sins of the distracted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the babies meet. things are going pretty well until they figure out who the other is.

Red started the next day feeling like he’d been hit with a car.

After his father had gotten through with ‘scolding’ him, he’d tiredly truded back to his room, locking the door and ignoring his step-mom’s calls for him to ‘get your ass down here for dinner.’

At some point, she’d even gotten his brother, Edge, to call for him as well. And while normally, Red would give in during any situation where his lovable scamp of a brother was involved, he was _too tired_ to even _think_ about making nice at the dinner table. Especially since his father would be there, giving him that eery smile that _should_ be fatherly, but wasn't, hadn't been for a long time.

… Which his step-mom, Frisk, seemed to be getting revenge for, if her early-morning wake up call was anything to go by.

“RED! RED! RED!” A small skeleton chanted, launching his body onto the bed and jumping on Red.

Red let out a tortured groan, shifting his face into his pillows.

“nooo, gooo ‘way, edge…”

Edge, dressed in his black-and-red striped onesie, only jumped harder, stomping on his way down.

“Be nice to your brother.” An amused voice came from the doorway. It was Frisk, leaning against the wall and watching her little hell-monger destroy Red’s lumbar vertebrae. He couldn’t tell who she was talking to, so he only grunted in reply.

“how’dja get in ‘ere?”

“You could say I have a…” She started with a certain slyness to her tone.

“NO NO NO!!” Edge whined, stomping his little foot hard. Directly onto Red’s lower ribs.

“ _oof!”_

“Skeleton key?”

Despite himself, Red chuckled.

“‘Kay, sleepybones, time to wake up. You’ve already missed the bus, so I’ll drive you if you’re ready in fifteen.” This was the Frisk that Red was more familiar with - matronly, but firm. She wasn’t a pushover, despite her kindness.

Made him wonder why the hell she would ever get with _his dad_ out of any other person on the literal planet.

Red groaned again, nestling further into his pillows.

“no. ‘m sick. cough cough.”

… Frisk sighed. “Your father told me you got into it with him again last night.”

Red didn’t say anything.

“You need to stop aggravating him. He’s a busy man with a stressful job, but he _loves you_. We… we both do, Red. We want the best for you.”

_she doesn’t know what she’s talking about - she - she doesn’t know…_

Part of Red was furious. Furious that she had _the nerve_ to spew that crap when she’d never seen the full extent of Wing’s ‘love’ for Red. 

But most of him was resigned. Wing’s had never shown the violent, angry side of himself to Frisk before, and Red was certain he never would. Instead, he fed her lies, covered up how bad it was. Portraying _Red_ as the problem.

Ignorant, angry bastard child.

Ignorantly angry at the world, because that’s how teens were.

Ignorantly angry at Wing for ‘letting his mother die’.

_(‘wasn’t his fault’ my ass, that bastard’s fuckin’ loaded, he could’ve… he could’ve…)_

But, then again, it wasn’t really Frisk’s problem. She wasn’t his mom. She was Edge’s mom. And while Red loved his little brother very much and was very thankful to Frisk for providing a loving environment for the tyke, he’d be fooling himself to think she felt the same sense of responsibility towards himself.

So he didn’t argue.

He slipped out of bed, ignoring Frisk’s sharp intake of breath when she saw his face, and went to his closet to pick out an outfit for the day. His closet was a myriad of red and black clothes in varying stages of distress.

“You need new clothes.”

Red grunted. Edge was quiet as Frisk ushered him out of the room, scooping up the three year old to dump him onto her hip and shutting the door quietly.

“... Be down in fifteen.”

It wasn’t until Red was dressed that he realized why Frisk had gasped - he had a black eye (socket?) and a large bruise on the left side of his face, dark red and angry looking. It was the worst visible damage Wing had given Red since middle school - that wasn’t to say that he hadn’t endured worse underneath his baggy clothes, though.

There was nothing he could do about the bruises, though, so he drew the fluffy material of his hood up and scowled. He looked normal in the mirror, so he figured it was safe.

Downstairs, Frisk was waiting with Papyrus, swinging her keyring around on her finger. She smiled when she saw Red.

“Ready?”

Red snorted, “as i’ll ever be.”

\-------

Blessedly, the car ride was silent, and Red was able to make it to school on time. He bid Frisk and Edge goodbye gruffly and stomped towards the school, ‘bad boy’ attitude activated.

It was enough to keep anybody from staring at him too long, and none of the teachers cared enough to make him drop the hood, so he counted the day as a win.

Even with Mr. Cooper giving him a smug look during math.

Even when lunchtime rolled around, and Red found himself sitting in the bathroom farthest from the cafeteria, scarfing down a bag of chisps he’d stolen from the pantry last week and hoping nobody would walk in.

Even when he had to walk to the library, the designated meeting spot for the tutoring, after school.

With his head down as it was, though, Red was oblivious to the larger form standing not a few feet away. The other student was preoccupied with something posted on the wall next to the library doors, also not paying attention.

Which means he was helpless to stop himself from ramming face first into the guy’s sternum.

Pain from his eye socket and cheek radiated over Red’s entire face, causing it to flush. His hands instantly came up to guard the injured areas of his face, indignation spiking.

He didn’t even check to see if he knew the perpetrator before angrily shoving a phalanx into his sternum, right where his face had made contact with a few seconds prior.

“what the fuck?? who the hell are you - no who the hell do you fuckin’ _think_ you are, huh?!”

Red ignored the other’s stuttering as he continued his assault, not noticing as his hood fell away to reveal his injured face.

“standin’ around like some sorta idiot?? what the hell are you even fuckin’ _doin’_ in the halls after school? imma!! imma!!”

Beyond reasonable threats, Red uttered a statement that, little did he know, would grow to be his biggest regret.

“imma tell the fuckin’ teacher on ya!!”

\-------

Sans watched the short skeleton in front of him go off feeling very, very confused. He’d been looking at the details of an upcoming dance - a fundraiser for something - when a small weight bumped into him.

And before he knew it, there was shouting and a pointy finger being jabbed into his chest. He couldn’t catch most of what was yelled, but he did get (what he hoped were) the main points:

  1. Sans was an inconsiderate asshole for standing in a public space
  2. Who the fuck did Sans think he was for standing in a public space
  3. And, his personal favorite,



“imma tell the fuckin’ teacher on ya!!”

…

..

.

“pppppffffffttttt eheheheh!!” Sans jovially wiped a tear from his eye socket. “man, that takes me back… back to kindergarten!“

The other student seemed to be rendered silent after that, allowing Sans to get a good look at him - they were a short skeleton (interesting, Sans didn’t know any others attended this school… maybe they were a freshman? They seemed short enough.) with similar features to Sans, only sharper.

“and, for your information, m’ name is sans. sans the skeleton gaster.”

Cue jaw drop. Sans was used to it - his father _was_ the creator of The Core, which is a _pretty_ big deal. Especially in the monster community.

… Apparently, though, the shock wasn’t for his lineage.

“y-yer middle name’s not seriously ‘the skeleton’, right?”

… Sans nearly broke into laughter again, but refrained. It was an opportunity for a great joke, after all, and this kid seemed like they’d give pretty funny reactions.

“hm? oh, that. guess you could say my dad’s got a _funny bone_. but, nah. my middle name ain’t ‘the skeleton’. i got two, ‘the’ and ‘skeleton’.”

It took a few seconds for the other’s face to screw up into a look of anger, the red from their earlier indignation coming back.

Made them look kind of like a tomato… Sans liked tomatoes…

“fuckin’!!! i ain’t that delta damned thick!! lyin’ bastard!! ya ain’t even fuckin’ funny!”

… This time, Sans couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“eheheheh! you got me there, short stack. is there anythin’ i can do for you?”

The smaller skeleton froze, looking uncertain. The red on their face faded, before coming back with a vengeance. Sans noticed the heavy bruising on their face.

Hm. Maybe they got in a fight? They looked about the type, with sharp teeth and dark clothing. Typical delinquent looking kid. Probably was a freshmen. Maybe one who got a bit too ahead of themselves in fights? Probably some sort of Napoleon Complex due to their shortness....

It was kind of a funny thought - the small, angry skeleton getting into fights they couldn't handle because of their inflated sense of ego... almost reminded him of Papyrus, except Papyrus would never try to fight anybody. He'd probably try to help them discover their 'true self', talking about how anybody can be a good person, if they just try...

Sans has been around long enough to know that not everybody wants to try.

“... i, uh… ain’tcha supposed t’tutor me, ‘r sumthin’?”

It clicked. But Sans still had to be sure.

“you’re red? red miller?”

“in th’flesh…” the other muttered, looking down.

… Sans hadn’t expected the cheater to be so tiny. Or a skeleton. Grade A asshole, yeah, but…

He suddenly had doubts about his plan, now coming face to face with he one he had been willing to fail in order to accomplish his goal. It was so.. Real… this wasn’t just someone he could ruin the life of and be done with.

This was an actual living being. Who got angry. And bruised.

One who had an okay sense of humor…

And Sans panicked.

Because he couldn't think like that. Thinking like that was going to get him stuck with five months of unnecessary bullshit. It didn’t matter, anyways, right? This kid was a cheater. It was sheer luck that he was still _in_ school, anyways.

All Sans was doing was rushing along the process and putting an early end to the inevitable.

So he grinned at Red.

“heh. you’re late, then. looks like _i’m_ the one who’s gonna be tellin’ the teacher on you, red.”

Again, the color drained out of Red’s face, his eye lights shrinking. The bruises on his face were that much more bold against the pearly white of his bones, but Sans wasn’t thinking of those anymore.

He was thinking of a thousand different ways to get this kid to quit.

His apparent short temper was already filed away for later use, as was his hatred for Sans’ jokes.

Well. Sans had a lot of jokes up his sleeve. Some untested pranks, too. Each with Red’s name on them.

“i’ll save that for the weekly report, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!
> 
> i wasn't sure about step-mom frisk, but it added some plot and an easy way to access more plot points i had planned in the future!
> 
> owo do you guys like the dual perspective thing, or should i make it every other chapter? leave a comment!


	3. sins of the curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first meeting... >:)

Red. Was. Dying.

Or, at least he was pretty sure he was dying. Or in Hell. Or a mashup of the two.

Not that he’d let the giant, smug, blue skeleton sitting across from him know it. The asshole had his dirty fucking  _ slippers _ propped up on the table, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed under his skull, looking to all the world like tho most care-free skeleton around.

Meanwhile, cut to  _ Red _ , who was  _ politely _ (Red, who had never done anything  _ willingly _ AND  _ politely _ before in his delta-damned  _ life _ ) sitting at the table,  _ diligently _ doing his work.

(Stars know if it was up to  _ Red _ , the asshole’s chair would have been tipped over and Red would have been halfway home, homework in the trash)

But it  _ wasn’t _ up to Red.

Nothing was  _ ever _ up to Red. Not from the classes he had to take or the events he had to attend or the bruises that littered his bones underneath his clothes or … or…

Just  _ anything _ .

And here was just one more ass who had power over Red, power Red didn’t  _ consent _ to giving - !

Everyone in this whole damn world thought they could just fucking  _ walk _ all over him. And they thought right, because when was one delta damned time he’d been able to stop someone from using him, one way or another, then tossing him away like garbage?

Even his fucking mom saw him as a way to get rich - 

_ (stop. she didn’t. she loved red and red loved her and it wasn’t her fault - ) _

“hey. you almost done? you look spacey.” The asshole’s voice cut through Red’s thoughts like a knife, drawing him back to a bleeding reality. Back to the fucked situation he’d gotten himself into.

Red huffed, hunching over his paper - it was only fifteen questions. Granted, each was a word problem that required him to pick around what the question required and the measurements he had, didn’t have and which ones weren’t needed, then he needed to pick the formula for the specific problem from somewhere out of his skull - 

“earth to reddy-boy, you there?”

Almost instantaneously, Red’s face flushed, angry indignation sparking in his SOUL.

“fuck off! don’t fucking call me that, asshoooo - “

The smug blue skeleton’s  _ stupid fucking victorious grin _ brought Red back to  _ exactly _ what he was saying. And  _ who _ exactly he was saying it to.

“oh, no, don’t stop. i wanna hear every word so i can put in the report accurately.” Came the other’s amused, low timbre (and didn’t Red just  _ hate _ how much he liked the asshole’s voice, how smooth it was) .

The asshole wasn’t even phased by Red’s language, feet still propped up and hands still behind skull, looking down (and that fucking asshole was  _ still _ able to look down on Red from his position, stupid tall motherfucker) at Red.

Gripping the pencil tighter in his hand, Red shook his skull.

“i-i’m almost done. jus’ got one more pro’llem.”

Sans (never mind, Asshole definitely suited the taller skeleton better) gave Red an observant look, gaze flashing briefly down to the paper the shorter was working on then back up to the skeleton himself.

“huh. y’ain’t using a calculator? calc ain’t ‘xactly user-friendly.”

Hunching further, Red avoided eye contact (or eye-light contact, more accurately), “w-why dj’ya think it’s takin’ me so long? showin’ m’ work takes time…” 

Truth be told, Red had never been allowed to use a calculator once in his entire life. Wing would have had a stars damned  _conniption_ if he caught word of his son even laying  _ eye lights _ on one of the devices.

In the tall skeleton’s opinion, those who used them were ‘lazy’ at best and downright ‘incompetent’ at worst. (Not that Wing didn’t already think of his bastard son as both of those).

Red had summarily begun memorizing the (outdated as hell and complicated as fuck) equations that he needed to in order to continue with his classes and keep up with his peers. As it was, he usually didn’t show a lick of work, preferring to keep it in his head where it made more sense (once the numbers were on paper, Red was prone to mistakes), but he decided to give it a go since he was here to be ‘tutored’.

Probably one of the reasons Mr. Cooper was able to stick the ‘cheater’ label on him so easily.

But. Fuck.

Now that Asshole had distracted Red, he was looking back down at the last question, which he’d only just barely started, down to the first line of numbers that he’d written down and wanted to fucking  _ cry _ , because he had  _ no idea _ what they meant or even what part of the equation he’d been on.

He tried to follow the numbers, follow the equation, but they all blurred and he was writing the wrong numbers down and everything sucked - 

“shit.” He groaned. He was going to have to restart the entire question.

Red had always fucking  _ hated _ math. It was so damn  _ confusing _ . He’d never been one to grasp the concepts fast, and multiplication still fucking tripped him up  _ so badly _ (and don’t even fucking get him started on simple  _ counting _ , he could count on his fingers and still get lost), but the rigorous practice Wing had put him through had quickly beat the idea of ‘giving up’ out of him.

Literally.

It had taken  _ years _ of working hard, studying when he wanted to be doing literally  _ anything else _ under the guidence of some hoity toity tutor Wing had hired for him to get as practiced as he was now.

“do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” The Asshole snorted. Sick asshole looked like he found Red’s sudden bout of panic  _ funny _ .

But Red had to sit there and fucking  _ take it _ .

He wasn’t even going to mention the fact that his mom was  _ fucking dead _ to the Asshole for some sense of petty revenge. Honestly, it probably wasn’t worth it to risk the possible punishment, nor did he even think Asshole would feel  _ bad. _ He’d probably just think, again, that the worst moment of Red’s life was funny.

“i’m done.” He said curtly in response, handing his paper over to Asshole for the colossal dick to go over.

As seemingly apathetic as Asshole had been about Red’s grades or situation earlier, he looked over the paper seriously, going as far as to take a pen out and start marking the paper up.

_ (fucking asshole, red  _ knows _ he got all the answers correct) _

Then, to add insult to injury, Asshole set the paper down on the table, blue beads of sweat gathering on his skull as he looked down at Red in an almost  _ considering _ manner.

“you’re  _ really _ bad at math, aren’tcha?”

\---------------

“you’re  _ really _ bad at math, arent’cha?”

Sans watched as the smaller skeleton’s skull exploded in that vibrant red once again, tiny hands snatching over the paper Sans had went over to look at all the red marks he’d left.

Interestingly, the skeleton had gotten every single question right, but his math was  _ horrendous _ . Kid probably should have used a calculator. Although Sans also suspected how detached Red had seemed earlier factored into his poor performance.

… Every bit of his work was shown, but it was all so,  _ so _ painfully wrong. He flipped his fractions, his signs and regularly forgot decimals… (he even reversed pi and theta for one entire question, then  _ tangent and cosine _ for another)...

Maybe this kid would be better off dropping out than going through another year of math…

“tyighjk” Sans almost laughed as the kid did an audible keyboard smash, “th’ fuck do ya mean?! i got all’o ‘em right??? why’dja circle all this shit??”

“you got the  _ question _ right, but your math sucks. you did everything wrong.”

“tha’s not  _ my _ fault!” The small skeleton whined, glaring down at the paper, then looking up to give Sans a mean look.

… Which wasn’t all that effective, considering that he was tiny and his itty-witty fwowny fwace wooked pouty.

“uuuuuhhhhhhh, yeh it is… ‘cause you’re the one who did the work…”

Red, still with his fwowny fwace, began to shove the paper back into his bag when Sans stopped him, “uh, think i should sign it so mr. coops knows i looked over it.”

The look on the red-toned skeleton’s face soured as he shoved the paper back over to Sans. Said skeleton did a quick signature in the same ink, looking over the paper one last time. Something odd stuck out to him, though he gave the paper back.

“soooo… milller ain’t a monster name…”

“...” 

The other skeleton didn’t reply, messing around with the zippers on his bag.

“y’know, i gotta human parent, myself.” It wasn’t really private information - seeing how his dad, Dings Gaster, owner of Core.Inc and his mom were one of the most popular and famous inter species couples around.

Although, for some reason, most people couldn’t believe that Sans had a human mom.

“...”

“i mean, i…. i gotta human mom, but what’s it like on the other side?”

“other side…?” The other finally replied, quietly. He sounded angry.

Well, when wasn’t this kid angry? Sans was almost ready from him to quit already, although he knew it wouldn’t be beneficial in the least to bump the kid off now, since he’s only two hours into his service, less than a twentieth of his requirement.

“yeah, you’re dad’s human, right? red ‘miller’?”

The other skeleton snorted ruefully, “women dun’  _ have _ to take the name of their husband, y’know? who says i dun’ got two moms or two dads, anyways? there’s more than one way fer humans and monsters t’get busy, an’ who says i ain’t adopted, ei’der?”

“i hadn’t thought of that,” Sans replied honestly and thoughtfully.

“‘course y’ain’t. ya got a perfect life with yer perfect rich dad and yer perfect  _ alive _ mom an’ - “

“whoooahh, slow down there, buddy. why the emphasis on  _ alive _ ?” It was almost creepy how the other had spat the word out - Sans knew it was ridiculous, but it almost sounded like a  _ threat _ .

And Sans didn’t take _ threats _ towards his family well.

“...” The other skeleton went silent again, glaring down at the table.

Sans slowly shook the other’s comment off, though his body was still tense. He ended up relinquishing his comfortable position leaning back in his chair to sit normally, skull held up by his arms.

“fine, keep your secrets, then.”

…

The silence persisted, with Red only staring down at the table and with Sans only observing the other.

“...” Sans cleared his throat. He  _ hated _ silence. He’d much rather fill it with laughter from his jokes, or even Red’s whining at this point.

He was supposed to get the other to hate him, anyways, right?

Maybe he could put that on hold for right now in favor of getting some answers. After all, Sans was a naturally  _ curious _ monster. He was also a very  _ pushy _ monster. Most saw this as a form of his usual straight-forwardness, but in all honesty, he just had little to no respect for personal boundaries.

Being the school’s ‘Golden Child’ had a lot of perks, though. People usually didn’t mind.

“... ‘kay, then. what about your monster parent? ah, that is, if you’re not adopted…?”

Red rolled his little eye crimson lights, clawed phalanx coming up to scratch at he small crack above his golden tooth.

“i ain’t adopted, asssss - dude…” Sans let out an amused huff at the quick ‘save’ the other had done. He really didn’t mind the names that much, but it was so  _ fun _ to hold the other’s helplessness above his head.

And how  _ easy _ it was, too - nothing to do with his size, either. It was just rather easy to get the other flustered and angry, and Sans  _ loved _ seeing the smaller’s reaction to his little threats.

“jus’ said that t’ make ya think. i dun’ care ‘f ya know who my  _ dad _ is, ei’der. jus’... dun’ go spreadin’ it ‘round?”

“cross my  _ heart _ .” Sans replied cheekily.

“ughh… ‘is name’s wing fellster.”

The name instantly clicked in Sans’ mind.

Wing Fellster.

Royal Scientist.

How interesting. Sans’ own dad had mentioned the monster in passing once or twice, usually at scientific events where Sans was forced to go along. He’d even caught glimpses of the tall skeleton on stage and heard his voice giving lectures on science too complex for even  _ Sans _ to get.

But Sans had never seen Red at any of the events, stars, Sans hadn’t even seen Red around the  _ school _ , as another skeleton, before, even though the red skeleton was apparently in his junior year… 

A small alarm went off, beeping insistently, making Sans aware of how he was staring at Red.

The small skeleton was blushing brightly now, attempting to hold the unintentional eye contact, although he was obviously flustering.

“i-it’s not a big deal!” Red squeaked.

“well, if you didn’t make a big deal outa me bein’ a gaster, i guess i shouldn’t about you bein’ wing’s son, then, huh?”

Red almost looked downright  _ shocked _ , only coming around to nod vigorously after a few moments.

“y-yeah…”

Sans grinned at him (surprising even himself - wasn’t he supposed to be trying to get rid of this cheater???), “well, that was the alarm to signal the end of this session, this is goodbye, i guess. see ya tomorrow.”

The last thing he saw was the other nodding before he teleported away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya! sorry it's been so long, i've been working out schooling schedule as well as writing for other fics!
> 
> i was thinking of posting every two weeks?? just so i could have time to work on the (3) other fics i'm writing at the moment and keep myself on a regular schedule ^^
> 
> hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> (also, in case you were wondering, red is portrayed as having some of the symptoms of dyscalculia - it's not completely accurate for the sake of story, but a difficulty understanding math terms is what dyscalculia basically is ^^. if you want to learn more, [here's a link.](https://www.webmd.com/add-adhd/childhood-adhd/dyscalculia-facts) it affects about 5-7% of the population in the US)
> 
> ALSO MY TUMBLR HERE [@beanniebenn](https://beanniebenn.tumblr.com)


	4. sins of the scheming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a quick reprieve from tutoring, we see how the boys feel about the situation.

The rest of the week - a measly three days, though it felt  _ so much longer _ \- went fairly similar to the first day.

Sans, or Asshole as Red preferred to call him, continued to be a tall, annoying and smug dick. His favorite thing to do was rile Red up then give him this stupid  _ fucking look _ right after Red started going off, reminding the smaller skeleton of certain  _ consequences _ .

At least it wasn’t as bad as it  _ could _ have been. Asshole had only set one whoopee cushion during that time, which didn’t phase Red considerably besides the fact that someone from a neighboring table had looked over at the two of them and stared for awhile.

Probably marveling at the image of two skeletons, so different in size, sitting together.

Red decided that as long as Asshole kept the public humiliation to a minimum, he could live out the rest of his Junior year without having a meltdown of epic proportions. It would also keep Wing off his back after school.

Ha. Try calling your son a lazy fatass when he’s studying at the librarby,  _ dad _ .

So. All in all, Red’s mood and demeanor towards the agreement was softening. He felt like after a few more weeks, maybe things would actually get  _ easier _ .

And, hey. It was a great way to avoid Wing. Weekly beatings had gone down significantly, and Red even had a reason to skip family dinners!

(he wasn’t so naive as to assume that it would be the end of Wing’s abuse - far from it, in fact. The taller skeleton was likely getting pent up without being able to use his favorite punching bag regularly,)

What  _ didn’t _ get easier, however, was taking criticism from Asshole.

_ Every single day _ Red showed his work diligently, and  _ every single day _ Sans used that  _ stupid red pen _ to mark up  _ every inch _ of Red’s precious math. At least after the first day, Sans usually spent the rest of the allotted two hours explaining  _ why _ exactly Red got the work (but not the question, never the question) wrong.

They had not once been able to get through the entire assignment in the two hours, which had Red idly considering using his lonely lunch period to finish the work so he and Asshole could get to the heh,  _ meat _ of it sooner.

That thought had been shut down almost as quickly as it had popped up, though - there was no fucking way Red was going to  _ enjoy _ meeting up with that stupid dick! Tolerating, yeah, appreciating that it reduced the amount of time he spent at home,  _ hell yeah _ .

Enjoy? Fuck no!

He’d rather gargle tacks and step on legos than admit that!

… Gargling tacks didn’t sound so bad right now, though. He would definitely take military torture over what he was doing now.

_ Grocery shopping _ .

Before Frisk, the Fellster Estate had been something of a bachelor pad. Granted, it was almost medically clean, but there was no concept of  _ home cooked meals _ . Red’s mom wasn’t even that great of a chef, from what Red could remember. She usually ordered in or heated something premade up in the oven.

Frisk was not so. She liked to cook. And stars, she was  _ good _ at it! The past four years have been some of the most enjoyable years of Red’s life - from the reduction of beatings when Frisk was home, to how Wing seemed to be appeased with his small,  _ legitimate _ son’s progress, and, yes,  _ the food _ .

Red usually avoided eating dinner with the family, but the times when he was forced to sit at the table, or even when Frisk kindly left a cold plate of what they’d had outside of his room, next to the door, he thoroughly appreciated it.

(He may have cried the first time Frisk had set the food out, but nobody needed to know that. It was between him and the lasagna.)

But. Back to the topic at hand.

Regularly home cooked meals meant regular  _ grocery excursions. _ Grocery excursions Frisk seemed rather fond of dragging her son and his brother out on.

It mostly consisted of Frisk browsing shelves, humming musically while Red pushed the cart and endured the brunt of the abuse from his younger brother, Edge, who’s favorite grocery store game was reaching back as far as the tiny basket would allow him to, grabbing something hard from the cart, and hurling it at Red.

(Red’s gotten more than one dirty look from Karen-Looking human women after an item hit the ground with a particularly loud smack, followed by Edge’s maniacal baby laughter.)

“What do you think, Red?” Frisk interjected, holding up to brands of toilet paper. Brands that Red did  _ not  _ recognize, because holy shit,  _ Red was a skeleton, he didn’t use the toilet. _

Slightly mortified at being asked of his opinion of  _ human toiletries _ , Red ducked his red skull into the fluff of his hoodie.

“d-do i  _ look _ like i know?? i dun’ even know what’cha….” Red looked to the side, whispering, “i d-dun’ even know what’cha do with ‘em…”

Frisk, ever the reasonable and composed lady, rolled her jelly-orbs at Red.

(Red couldn’t really think of  _ eyes _ any other way ever since he’d learned exactly what they were made up of and how they worked - or, human eyes, at least. He remembered liking the color of his mother’s eyes, though he can no longer recall what they were. Frisk’s gray-blue jellies were a calming shade, though.)

“I was wondering about the  _ price _ ,  _ numbskull,” _ Edge made pouty noises at the joke, tossing something light at Red, which landed squarely on his forehead, and thankfully bounced back into the cart. “Jumbo package for a discount, or normal package for five bucks less?”

Even more embarrassed, Red hid his face in his hands.

“i-i dunno!! how much d-do ya usually…” Red nearly gagged, “ _ u-use?? _ ”

“I don’t track my  _ toilet-paper use _ , Red.”

A high pitched, mortified whine left the small skeleton.

“wh-whateva’s more pract’cal, then??? it dun’...  _ go bad _ , do it?” He was almost afraid of the answer.

“It doesn’t…” Frisk said consideringly, looking at the packages of toilet tissue. “Well, guess more won’t hurt in the long run, hmm? Thanks, Red.”

Now Red’s skull was bright for another reason entirely - it wasn’t often he was praised. Actually, scratch that, he was almost  _ never _ praised. The closest was when he was hanging out with a group of pseudo-friends, and one of them off-handedly mentioned something Red was good at.

Or when his english teacher praised him in the little notes off to the side of his essays or poems…

Those were different… Red could (hah)  _ write _ those off. The kids he hung around didn’t really  _ know _ him. Anything they said didn’t hold any real bearing, and getting feedback on what he wrote wasn’t very personal.

Frisk… was…. She  _ lived _ with Red. And saw him after Wing was done beating the shit out of him, and after he’d shut himself in his room for days at a time, when he got home from a fight (which was a laughable term for Red getting jumped by the local bullies)... 

She saw him for the worthless bag of bones he was.

And for some reason, she  _ still cared _ . She was probably… the closest thing besides Edge or his mom who was like  _ family _ to Red. Not that she’d ever probably feel the same. She probably pitied the poor bastard child of her husband.

“jeez… whateva’... dunno why ya wann’ed the ‘pinion of sum’on’ who dun’ even use th’ stuff.”

“Well, you’re a math whizz, right? I’ve seen your scores.”

Red shrugged, “no’ really…”

“Hmm… needing tutoring doesn’t make you bad, persay. Just means you need a little help. We all need a little help sometimes.”

Red, slightly distracted by his brother grabbing his hand to gnaw on it, replied more honestly than he would have liked.

“nah, ‘m jus’ bad. ‘s okay in mah head, but once it’s on paper… i just… oh, jeez, i dun’ even know the names of the shit i mess up. can’ hardly add right, can’ keep track of countin’, dun’ know which way the lil’ alligator ‘s s’posed t’ go in an inequality, fractions ‘re parts of a whole, but that dun’ make sense when i dun’ know what that’s s’psed t’ mean…”

Frisk was quiet for a small stretch of time, sparking panic in Red. Fuck…! He said too much, now Frisk was going to know how dumb Red  _ really _ was.

“It sounds like you should bring that up with the kid who tutors you. I’m sure the two of you could work on some stuff to make it a little easier?”

Red shook his head, glaring fiercely at the ground, “no way! ass-  _ he _ wouldn’ let me hear th’ end of it.”

Red was startled by the feeling of Frisk patting his back firmly.

“Okay, buddy. Go at your own pace, and don’t let anybody tell you that anything else is better! Fuck those guys!”

Fuck… Frisk was so delta-damned cheesy…

… It might have drawn a laugh from Red.

Among other things.

“I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?? You’re crying, Red!”

“‘m not… edge poked my socket…”

A lie.

\------------

When the weekend finally hit, Sans locked himself into his room to plan.

… 

Alright. He was scheming.

Can you blame him, though? What else was a nearly-graduated senior and valedictorian supposed to do in his free-time?

Throughout the week, Sans had played his meetings with Red cool, feeling out the other’s temper, seeing what made him tick and what set him off and  _ how _ he reacted to being set off. 

Sans had to admit.

Red was surprisingly patient.

He was also pretty good at controlling his temper.

So far, Sans could glean that Red’s least favorite thing was being insulted (especially when Sans was discreet about it - hidden jabs that seemed to hit home). Next to that was public humiliation.

Sans could have assumed that with his bad-boy attitude, he would relish in the attention he’d get from cussing out Sans in the middle of the library, but after a whoopee cushion and about three near-tantrums, Red’s  _ red _ face and his nervous eye lights darting around the room had clued the taller skeleton in.

… Red was sort of a big baby under those edgy clothes… 

Sans was pretty sure he could get the kid to cry with enough attention from others. (not that that was the goal - or, maybe it would be the finale. He could imagine it now - Red covered in what was likely a messy prank ((although it would have to be something Sans could get away with, something that couldn’t be traced back to him)), in tears, with eyes from all over the  _ school _ on him running out of the room…)

Heh. 

The kid would be too embarrassed to show up for tutoring, and  _ bam _ , Sans had a free semester.

‘Course there was a necessary two months of preparation he had to go over -  _ can’t get ahead of yourself, sansy _ . First, he had to find a way to make Red supremely uncomfortable during their sessions.

Which brought Sans back to the first day of tutoring - Red had never seemed more uncomfortable than when Sans was prying into his personal life. His relationship with his parents was like a jackpot to bust open that basket case.

And, while hacking into the school system or stalking the short skeleton to get the information needed was very not legal and kind of a waste of energy, Sans had a perfectly good alternative.

Red had given Sans enough information to perform a simple series of google searches.

_ wing fellster son _

_ wing fellster spouse _

_ wing fellster wedding _

_ wing fellster affair _

Frustratingly enough, though, each search ended with a few articles of Wing Fellster’s marriage to a popular politician,  _ Frisk _ . There were even a few on the birth of their son - A tiny skeleton who almost reminded Sans of when Papyrus was a baby.

But. These articles were around three years old - and Sans was pretty damn sure that Red was a whole lot older than three.

Which means that Red’s mom was  _ not _ , in fact, Frisk Fellster.

Unless Red was born when Frisk was seventeen herself, as the politician was now only thirty-four years of age.

Which means that Red was born of a woman who significantly older. A woman who had  _ some _ sort of illicit dalliance with Wing Fellster, one that was kept  _ far _ from the public.

Now, there wasn’t  _ no trace _ of Red at all.

Sans was able to spot the tiny skeleton in the corners of some of the shots of Doctor Fellster receiving awards or socializing at fancy science gallas.

(The pictures were of when Red was younger - with less cracks and chips, and, interestingly, no golden replacement tooth. The skeleton looked far from happy, though. He had his signature fwowny fwace, looking like the world’s most uncomfortable skeleton in his itty witty suit.)

“interesting…” Sans crooned, saving one of the photos to his computer for later blackmail usage.

_ Knock Knock _ .

“uhhhhh…. yess…..??” Sans called out, still focused on his computer screen.

Papyrus, Sans’ younger brother who was in his first year of middle school, cracked the door open.

He looked around the dark room, then to his brother who was sitting hunched over his computer, glasses taped to the sides of his skull, reflecting light back from the only source of it in the room. His screen.

Papyrus held back a shiver as Sans’ head turned towards him slowly.

“...paps…?”

“MOM MADE GREEN BEANS!” Papyrus squeaked, running out as soon as he was finished delivering his message. Internally, the young skeleton rattled as he looked upon his older brother, who like one of the creatures from that one horror movie he’d secretly watched... (and been subsequently traumatized by).

… Confused, Sans turned back to the screen, then to his doorway.

He took his glasses off and rubbed his eye sockets.

… Was he seeing things?

He could have sworn Papyrus had just run in yelling something about green beans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> leave a comment and visit my tumblr if yer up to it!!
> 
> [Link text](https://beanniebenn.tumblr.com)


	5. sins of the frustrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all that tension finally comes to a head... things cannot keep going the way they have...
> 
> ....
> 
> that doesn't mean they're going to stop, though

Monday was something that Red was dreading. 

It wasn’t  _ only _ the tutoring. He wouldn’t give that giant blue asshole so much importance in his life as to be a reason alone on its own to  _ dread _ something.

Mostly, Red fucking hated Mondays because he didn’t get to sleep in  _ and _ Wing was off on Sundays.

What did Sundays have anything to do with Mondays, besides linear placement?

The biggest asshole of all that Red, sadly, couldn’t push out of his life.

Wing.

Frisk did this really neat thing on Sundays where she took Edge out on the town and spent the day out of the house so that Wing and Red could have ‘Father Son Time’. It was  _ her _ idea - she’d come up with it when she’d first moved in.

She ‘didn’t want to intrude on their “bonding time”’ or seem like she was trying to take Wing away from Red (stars, if only). It would have been a really sweet sentiment if it didn’t nearly  _ always _ end in some sort of altercation with Wing.

Not always physical.

Sometimes it was just Wing yelling, then Red would get fed up and start yelling back, then Wing’s eye would flair dangerously and Red would run off to his room to sulk.

Red’s confidence had grown since the tutoring began, though.

He forgot how sensitive Wing’s little triggers were, and had ended up making an off handed snark about the Gaster Family when Wing had tensely asked about how the ‘tutoring’ was going. (he  _ really _ should have known better - the Gasters were a sure way to put Wing in the worst mood).

Needless to say, Red earned a giant bruise on the entire underside of his jaw. And all along his pelvis.

(Wing had delivered a quick backhand, picked his son by the collar up to scream a little then dropped him from six feet up onto his ass.)

(Red  _ really  _ should have known better.)

All things considered, it was a quick punishment. Wing had stormed out rather than give out a few kicks to Red’s ribs like he usually would have. What was concerning was that it was the  _ second _ visible wound Wing had left in a month.

Things were… escalating. Quickly. 

Maybe something was happening at the lab, or maybe Wing had decided that Red was a Big Boy now who got into enough shit on his own, and people wouldn’t go looking to Wing in the occurance of a fracture or two.

EIther way, it fucking sucked, because Red was left riffling through his closet of ratty clothes, looking for something that would hide his ‘ _ dad’s _ ’ present. Luckily, his favorite thing to wear was a practical turtle neck, which hid the underside of his jaw if he kept his skull angled downward.

Not a problem. Red was used to looking at his feet.

So. Yeah.

Mondays fucking sucked and Red was going to have to deal with having a sore ass the entire day. For once in his miserable life, he wished he had the option to stand all day - a less painful alternative to the harsh plastic chairs at school.

Frisk had already left for work, so Red couldn’t mooch a ride off of her, either. He had to stand at the stupid fuckin’ bus stop in the middle of winter, freezing his bruised coccyx off. The bus driver sneered when Red got on (Red was the only monster on the bus, apparently the driver wasn’t used to transporting more ‘diverse’ students), but Red just growled right back.

He sat in the back and kept his tired sockets open, not wanting someone to get the upper hand on him during his sleep.

The day wasn’t any better - he go assigned  _ two _ fuckin’ projects within three hours and ran into the local bully, who tried to make buddy buddy with Red only to get shot down. The asshole had sworn revenge at Red’s uniterested responses, and got it at lunch by tripping him and making the small skeleton spill his food everywhere.

Barely holding back tears, Red had run to the upstairs bathrooms and hid for the rest of the day, skipping his last three classes.

He spent that time looking over the projects, panicking whenever someone entered a stall next to the one he was hiding out in, and spending  _ way too much time _ contimplating the calculus homework sticking out of his bag.

Also periodically trying to wash the mustard stain off of his  _ favorite jacket _ .

Yeah. Red had cried  _ a lot _ whenever he realized that the ugly stain wasn’t coming off. Not that he would have let anybody hear or see him… he quietly sniffled into the fuzz on the hood of his fallen solider.

He just felt  _ wrong _ without the added, comforting bulk of the jacket. He shoved the dirty article of clothing in his backpack, finding himself picking at the joints between his phalanges more than usual, enough for the little pockets of magic to get sore.

Great.

_ Now _ he couldn’t flex his hands without little shocks of pain racing through his magical nervous system.

Tutoring was going to be great.

Like a prisoner on death row, Red trudged down to the library, ariving  _ before _ Asshole for once.

Well, at least  _ one _ delta-damned thing was going his way today. He could safely set up his station without having to worry about another whoopee-cushion surprise or have that blue jerk watch him as he started on the work.

In the quiet of the (for once) empty library, Red actually found the quiet busy work to be the best part of his day -  _ relaxing, _ even - well. Right up until Sans waltzed in and set across from Red, starting up his usual schtick of putting his feet up on the table and leaning back in his chair.

_ this is fine _ , Red told himself.  _ he does this everyday. you  _ aren’t _ going to lose your shit over this asshole, he doesn’t deserve it, you’ve delt with worse -  _

Then. Sans. Started. Smacking his  _ fucking _ lips ( _ skeletons don’t even having any fucking lips what the fuck??) _ and chewing obnoxiously on watermelon ( _ yes, Red could smell it from  _ across _ the table) _ flavored gum.

How the hell did this giant blue asshole manage to push every single one of Red’s buttons at the same time??

“shumtin’ wrong, red?” Asshole inquired cheekily, smacking loudly and slurring his speech exaggeratingly.

“could ya -”

  
SMACK.

Sans chewed loudly.

“a-ah, yer - “

POP.

Sans smacked down on a bubble he’d blown with the gum, letting it get all over his  _ fucking face, red was two seconds away from slapping this son of a bitch -  _

“p -”

“oh, shorry…” Asshole sighed innocently, scrapping at his face to get the gum off. It created one of the  _ worst _ intances of bone on bone Red had ever heard (like nails on a chalkboard), along with the disgusting display of Asshole  _ literally just spreading his blue fucking spit around on the face what the hell. _

Red let this go on for about a minute, staring blankly at Asshole while his rage swirrled around inside.

The small skeleton wished he was one of those people who could go cold and silent when he was angry. He  _ wished _ he could stay calm and find a way to turn his anger into a tool, not a disability.

He couldn’t, though. That just wasn’t him.

And so, he fucked up.

He  _ really _ fucked up.

…

..

.

“ _ can you shut the fuck up while i’m working _ ??!!” Red  _ screeched, _ climbing up onto the table, scrambling over to where the larger’s feet were propped up and throwing them off the table. “you are the most  _ annoying _ piece of shit i’ve ever met! who the hell raised you??!!”

Red landed a (weak) frenzy of tiny slaps to the other’s face, leaning back to huff heavily and take in the larger’s image after.

Sans stared up at Red in shock, gum still stuck to his face.

He really  _ was _ a mess. The gum was stuck all over his cheeks and teeth, and he was drooling even more due to his mouth being wide open.

“d-delta…” Red cursed, realizing the sheer  _ magnitude _ of his fuck up. He scrambled back, falling off the table, falling three feet down and onto his bruised ass. He ignored the pain, though, and turned tail to run and hide - 

_ shit, he’s gonna get me, fuck what the hell did i do he’s gonna fuckin  _ kill _ me! _

\------------------

…

Sans was… well,  _ shocked _ seemed like an understatement, and  _ in shock _ felt like hyperbole. He was somewhere in the middle.

He’d… well. He hadn’t planned for  _ chewing gum _ to go  _ this _ badly. True, he’d walked in with the intent to annoy the shit out of the smaller skeleton by chewing and smacking his lips loudly, but….

But he didn’t expect to  _ get _ smacked.

Of course, having Red’s tiny little baby bones hands hitting him was like having a butterfly flap its wings on Sans’ cheek bones, but it was the pure  _ rage _ and  _ frustration _ Red had yelled at him with that got Sans’ attention.

And, also, the fact that Red had just  _ gone batshit crazy on him _ . If that tiny skeleton had had  _ any _ ill intent, then Sans might have actually been injured. As it was, Red was apparently more intent on getting Sans to  _ understand _ his frustration than to  _ take out _ his frustration on the larger.

Then, the skeleton, paler than Sans had seen the other ever before, had whispered out a curse and proceeded to  _ run away _ . The little guy had even fallen off the table which was only a foot shorter than him onto the ground and  _ kept going _ until he’d weaved through the bookshelves enough for Sans to not know where he was.

All while Sans sat dumbly with gum all over his face.

First, he quickly scraped the gum off of his face, grimacing at how sticky it was and the unnatural artificial scent that was initially suposed to annoy  _ Red _ . While Sans did this, he thought about how to approach the situation.

He  _ could _ be an asshole and tell Red that this was  _ definitely _ going in the report and the smaller should look forward to a meeting with the principal.

…

_ Or _ ….

He could be a decent person and figure out why the hell Red had freaked out so badly and maybe try to calm him down.

Sans had had enough panic attacks to know what the beginnings of one looked like…

The options weighed in his head.

On one hand, he was supposed to to annoy Red and get him to quit, on the  _ other _ … it was still  _ way _ too early to get Red to quit.

Sans had made a fatal miscalculation during his planning this weekend. It seemed Red was more sensitive than Sans had previously assumed. The plan was still on, but…

… The situation needed to be approached with more  _ finesse _ , more  _ subtlety _ than Sans had been giving it. He needed to make Red  _ angry _ , not give him  _ panic attacks _ .

The tricky part was finding out where that delicate line laid - finding the ‘goldilocks’ conditions for Red’s temper but not his anxiety to show through.

For now, though, Sans definitely needed to put on a friendly front to keep the kid from quitting right away.

After depositing his chewed gum into the trash, Sans walked along the shelves to find the tiny, red-toned skeleton. “red…?” he called out. 

No response.

Except… if Sans listened closely, he could hear tiny sniffling and gasps, like… like…  _ oh hell _ , like the kid was  _ crying _ .

Wow. Way to make Sans feel like the  _ bad guy  _ here.

“red, i, uh,  _ shit _ … i’m real sorry?” Sans offered, going towards the corner he heard the tiny noises from. The noises that stifled themselves, presumably as Red heard Sans get closer to his little hiding spot.

_ fuck _ .

“c’mon talk to me… you’re acting like a baby bones…” Sans prompted, finding Red,  _ finally _ . He was holed up into an empty corner between a shelf and the wall, curled into himself, sniffling.

His little face was flushed red and he had giant, red tinted tears running down his skull. They seemed to soak everything, from the sleeves Red was using to wipe them away to the collar of his sweater.

Sans  _ really _ wasn’t used to dealing with crying people, lettalone  _ Red _ crying. The skeleton had always been more composed before this - he would yell and curse, but he’d never broken down like this in front of Sans.

Briefly, the taller skeleton thought back to just yesterday where he’d thought about how pleasing it would be to have Red crying as he ran from the school as a finale, but… now, the thought of making this tiny kid cry _ anymore _ made Sans feel like a Grade A Asshole.

Lower than dirt.

Real scum.

Red looked up, gasping sharply at the sight of Sans standing before him.

“s-stay away!” The smaller squeaked, flattening himself against the wall, on his knees. “i-i i’m not afraid ta fight’cha! i’ll fuck ya up!”

Somehow, Sans seriously doubted that. You know. What with the fat tears still dribbling down Red’s face and all.

“i’m not gonna hurt you,” Sans said, squatting down in front of Red, “i wanted to apologize.”

Red eyed Sans skeptically, not relaxing in the slightest. “an’ i’m asgore motherfuckin’ dremurr, cut th’ shit, i  _ know _ yer angry!”

“i’m  _ not _ angry,” Sans sighed, “i’d really ‘ppriciate it if you didn’t put words in my mouth and feelings in my SOUL.”

“i-i” Red looked to Sans’ cheekbones, choking on his words slightly, then back up to meet his eye lights, “i hit’cha!”

“yeah. you hit like a kitten.” Sans replied, enjoying the way Red puffed up at the insult, fear fading slightly to have anger replace it.

“shut it!” Red growled.

“no,” Sans started, “i don’t think i will. you hit like a kitten and you cry like my brother when he accidentally steps on a worm.” Red’s scowl deepened as Sans went on, “you act like a tough guy, but you’re really just an edgy baby hiding underneath dark clothes.”

Red turned his skull to the side, face impossibly Red. A darker splotch on his chin caught Sans’ attention, though. Previously, it had been hidden by his sweater…

“you get into fights you can’t win, probably because you like to cuss people out rather than take a rational approach.”

“w-weren’tcha s’pposed ta be appologizin’...?” Red muttered, pulling the neck of his sweater up over the lower portion of his face.

“oh, so are you going to accept my apology, now?” Sans raised a brow bone.

“if yer gonna be an ass ‘bout it!” Came Red’s indignant reply, muffled by his sweater.

Sans chuckled. There he was. The angry, asshole Red he’d come to know over the course of three (or would it be four, now? Six? Did the weekend count?) whole days.

“i’m sorry. i was being purposefully annoying.”

“okay.” Red said, looking off to the side again. His skull might have been a little red still, but Sans wasn’t sure if it was because he was embarrassed or left over from crying.

“okay?” Sans echoed, bemused.

“yeah, ya apologized. we good now?”

“you aren’t going to… accept it?” Sans didn’t really  _ need _ Red’s forgiveness, seeing as  _ he’s _ the one who hit _ Sans _ … but… it would be  _ nice _ …

“nah,” Red smirked, “i dun’ think i will.” He teased, echoing Sans’ earlier words.

_ “you little shit… _ ” Sans playfully growled, strangely liking the way Red cackled in response.

( _ shit.) _

_ (i can’t think like that… i have…) _

_ (i have an agenda.) _

_ (i did say that i needed to be more subtle, though…) _

_ (what is it they say?) _

_ (oh.) _

_ (right.) _

_ (keep your friends close and your enemies closer) _

Sans saw the way Red picked at his tear-damp clothing, shivering.

Oddly, the small skeleton was devoid of his usual jacket.

Almost without thinking, Sans shucked off his own coat and offered it to the smaller. Red looked at it like Sans was offering him Xanax instead of a piece of clothing.

“you’re cold, right?”

“th-th’ fuck??” Red screeched, skull lighting up like a neon bulb.

“just take it, baby bones.” Sans shook the article of clothing at him with an eye roll.

Red huffed and grabbed the jacket, pulling it over his small frame. He looked… dare Sans say  _ cute, _ bundled up in the clothing made for someone who was  _ much _ larger.

“don’t bother giving it back today, i’d like you to wash it and return it tomorrow to get your snot off.”

The glare Red sent Sans’ way had him cracking up like nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::DD
> 
> hey guys!!! thanks for reading!!!
> 
> i'd just like to take a moment to say that i really enjoy writing this fic and my [cherryberry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374202) fic more than basically everything else i've probably ever written, so!!! thanks for supporting this fic with kudos/comments because they make me super happy...
> 
> okay.... 
> 
> have a nice day... leave a comment if you'd like!!


	6. sins of the stubborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh, ghod, sans... stop while you're ahead, please...

Red did not know how to use a washing machine. This is something that became  _ painfully _ apparent whenever he tried to figure out how he was going to wash the giant blue asshole’s jacket.

He wouldn’t have bothered with the task if he didn’t notice that his red tears had left purple stains all over the sleeves.

… Also maybe because he didn’t want to let Sans know that Red didn’t know how to use the laundry machines. Red could claim that he was lazy and didn’t care, but… That asshole somehow had a way of knowing shit.

Reading faces, you could say.

Something Red would have to watch out for if he didn’t want the asshole to catch on to what was going on. Last thing he needs is some kind of whistle blower.

( _ not after last time _ )

Even more frustrating than the metallic beast in front of Red, however, was thinking about  _ how _ Red had gotten the jacket he was trying to wash.

_ He’d cried in front of Sans _ .

Red could just melt in between the floorboards and be content for the rest of eternity. As far as he was concerned, his life was over. There was no way in hell that the asshole was going to let the shorter forget that…

Unless he did. The crying could have changed his mind about being an asshole (although Red highly doubted that).

_ Would that be a good thing? _

Sans being nicer, not being such an ass…. treating Red like a ~~person~~ _kid._

Red scowled.

He didn’t need that asshole’s pity! He was fucking fine, thank you! 

He had  _ this _ shit-uation under control, fuck you very much. Some bruises and stupid pranks aren’t going to be his undoing. He wasn’t a little baby who needed someone to hold his hand all the time.

Red was seventeen - a year away from being an adult - he could  _ take care of himself _ .

… The stained jacket taunted Red from it’s place on top of the washing machine.

Okay. So. He couldn’t do his own laundry, but,

“Red, is that you?” Frisk asked, walking into the room. She was carrying a basket of laundry with her, probably intending on washing her clothes.

_ (Frisk was the only one in the family who actually DID laundry. Wing and Red let the maids that came bi-weekly do it for them, but Frisk insisted that was lazy and had been stalwartly doing her and Edge’s laundry without help.) _

“... uh… yeah…” Red replied, sweating profusely as he snatched up Sans’ - no,  _ asshole’s _ \- jacket and hid it behind him. He didn’t exactly know  _ why _ he was trying to hide the jacket, but he  _ did _ know that Frisk would be curious as to why Red was hanging out in the laundry room when he didn’t do any laundry…

Shit...

The human gave Red a curious look, putting her basket on top of the washing machine. “Why are you in here? The maids came yesterday, you shouldn’t have any laundry left.”

Red shifted on his metatarsals, looking off to the side. He started to sputter out some bullshit answer before Frisk interuppted him.

“You aren’t hiding out from your dad, are you?”

_ let’s please not have this conversation right now… _ , Red thought to himself, somehow sweating more.

“n-nah, i just had sumthin’ t-t’ do, i’m uh, done now, - “

Red tried to skirt around Frisk, only to have the back collar of his shirt pulled by the human, who was giving him an unimpressed look. Fuck… She only had that flat look when she was about to call Red out on something…

“And what’s this, Mister?” She asked, tugging on the jacket Red was still holding close to his body.

“n-nuthin’’ Red squeaked unconvincingly.

Frisk rolled her jellies, “I  _ know _ you have something. You’re not in trouble, I just want to see what actually dragged your bony butt into the laundry room.”

Red stared at the human, hoping she would let the issue go.

He  _ could _ just run away, it’s not like Frisk was his  _ real _ mom or anything…

But… she’d done so much for Red… she was probably the only one in this whole delta damned world who gave a damn about what happened to him.

She’d been the one to get Red the green-magic infused cream yesterday when she saw the bruise lining the bottom of the jaw (it wasn’t quite strong enough to heal it all the way, reason why he had to go to school with the injury). She’d been the one to bring him cold lasagna after dinner. She’d been the one to give him advice and encouragement.

He figured he owed her at least this. Plus, it wasn’t like he was doing anything  _ bad _ .

Shamefully, Red showed Frisk the jacket. She took in the overly large piece of clothing, the purple stains on the sleeves and Red’s avoidance of eye-contact.

… 

“Did you need help washing it?”

Red stared at Frisk with wide sockets. That’s it? No questions asked?

“um, uh,” Red stammered, “y-yeah.”

He placed it in Frisk’s waiting hands. She turned the jacket around a few times, studying it.

“Looks fine,” She commented, “the stains should come out with a quick wash! I’ll put it in with my load.”

“thanks.” Red watched her intently, trying to memorize how she worked the washing machine, unaware of Frisk’s amused smile.

_ ‘kay, that’s where ya put ‘em, then ya put in th’ soap… how much soap? _

“So,” Frisk started casually, drawing Red out of his trance. “Who’s jacket is this? Got a sweetheart I should know about?”

Red’s face flushed candy apple in seconds.

“wh-what?? no!” Red screeched, “fuck no, as if i’d date th-that  _ asshole _ !”

Frisk’s smile only grew. “Oh? This wouldn’t happen to be the same ‘ _ asshole _ ’ that’s tutoring you, would it?”

The blush deepened.

“My, my, how scandalous.”

That was the night Red nearly combusted.

The following day was the day Red almost started to melt under the stare of Sans as he presented the skeleton with his hoodie, clean.

\--------------------

Surprisingly enough, Red had actually washed the jacket. Sans took it into his hands when the shorter had handed it back, a brilliant ruby blush covering his face. The little guy wouldn’t even make eye contact with Sans.

That is, until he started speaking. Sans recognized the tone - it was the one Red used when he was trying to sound tougher than he was, when he wanted to make demands he had no power to be making.

Red looked into Sans’ eye lights, face still radiating a crimson blush as he spoke.

“d-dun’ think this changes anythin’!” The red-toned skeleton shoved his hands into his shorts pockets. (he still wasn’t wearing his jacket - Sans was starting to wonder if something had happened to it.) “i-i dun’ need’ja t’ start treatin’ me like a baby, ‘kay?!”

Sans simply smirked as he shrugged on the jacket. Hm. It smelled different than usual - Red’s detergent, probably.

… Kinda smelled nice…

“wouldn’t dream of it, pal.” Sans replied smugly, gesturing to the table they were standing by. Time to get the show on the road. “why don’t you take a seat?”

Suspiciously, Red pulled out a chair to sit.

He was right to be suspicious. Sans used magic to pull it out a little more just as the skeleton was starting to sit, causing Red to fall onto his coccyx.

“ow!! shit shit shit!” The smaller yowled, shooting upwards to grab the table for support.

_ (fuck _ . _ ) _

Seemed Sans was really bad at this. Red looked to be in  _ real pain _ , 

_ (fuck, were those tears, again??) _

Sans was a terrible person. Oh Stars. But he had to power through. Too late to quit now.

_ (future reference: no more pranks that could hurt) _

Red shot Sans by far the nastiest glare he’d gotten so far and quietly sat back down, slowly, like it  _ still _ hurt, a minute later.

Sans sheepishly sat down across from him. “so,” he cleared his throat, “homework?”

Red riffled around in his bag and pulled out a  _ large _ packet. “test review,” The other explained gruffly, “we gotta test ova’ unit four next week.” He plopped the papers down on the desk and started to get to work.

Now. Sans  _ could _ sit back and go to sleep. There was no way Red was finishing that packet within the two hours Sans was required to tutor the kid today, which means that he wouldn’t have to review his work or explain  _ why _ fractions divided by multiplying reciprocals (for the sixth time).

But… as a test  _ review _ , it would probably better to go along the questions with Red and see if he knew how to work them out, not just let the kid half-ass it then listen to Sans explain why he got a question wrong (or, the work, that is).

Especially since… the test would probably the mark of how effective Sans’ tutoring has been. If that kid didn’t pass the test, then eyes would turn to Sans, and well… that wasn’t good.

The star student of the school, unable to help a junior pass his pre-cal class?

Reputation: Ruined.

“h-hey, red, uh, want any help?” Sans offered.

The small skeleton gave Sans a questioning look. “... no?”

“are ya  _ sure?” _

“pretty damn sure.” Red snarked.

…

  
  


Sans let the ensuing silence sit for a little, drumming his phalanges on the table for a little, untill Red shot him another testy look.

_ (when did he start letting red tell him what to do? oh, right, he didn’t.) _ Sans continued drumming his fingers in spite of Red’s periodic glares.

… When he got too restless, Sans stood abruptly and walked over to Red’s side of the table leaning over his shoulder.

“don’t be stubborn, c’mon.”

Red, unsurprisingly, made a noise of displeasure, and shoved at Sans face leering over his shoulder.

“y’ can look at it when ‘m done!” He whined.

“ _ or _ , i can look at it  _ now _ and help you catch mistakes before they happen.”

“ _ or,” _ Red grouched, “ya can wait like ya do everyday. why’re ya so pushy t’day?”

“ _ this” _ Sans replied, “is a  _ test review _ . not normal homework. i wanna help.”

“an’ it’s due next week.” Red said bluntly, “i got time. ya can check it when ‘m done.”

“let me help.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“no.”

“i think you meant to say, ‘ _ yes, sans, please help me!’ _ ”

“i think i meant to shove my foot up your coccyx.”

“cool it, reddy boy.”

“dun’ call me that.”

“give me the paper, then.”

“it’s mine.”

Sans made a move to grab the papers, but Red anticipated that, swiping it to the left, and…

… directly off the table.

The two skeletons gave each other identical startled looks.

…

A few moments passed before Sans made a dive for the packet and Red practically leaped off of his chair to get at the packet. The two of them ended up undershooting the distance, which resulted in them landing in a tangle of bones together a few feet away from the desired packet.

Red was the first to recover from the collision, scrambling on his elbows to reach for the papers. Sans realize this a second later, and grabbed at Red’s tibia, pulling him back.

It was too late, though. The small skeleton had already grasped the packet and was holding it to his chest. In a last ditch effort to get the papers, Sans pulled Red closer via his tibia, until he was practically right under him.

Red looked up at Sans and  _ hissed _ .

“mine!”

“you’re not really in the position to be saying that…” Sans told him warningly.

Red blinked. He seemed to reaslize how they were positioned - with Sans on his hands and knees, pinning Red beneath him.

The small skeleton broke out into a heavy sweat.

A blush brighter than the one Red had had when he was handing Sans his jacket took over the small skeleton’s skull, traveling down, down…

Sans followed the progression of the magic, down to Red’s sweater.

… Which had ridden up as Sans had dragged the small monster, all the way up to his bottom ribs. Ribs which were in rough shape, from what Sans could tell. They had the calcified impressions of healed fractures and some cracks that hadn’t healed yet - and these were only his  _ bottom _ ribs - 

“get offa me!!” Red shrieked, scrambling away from Sans to pull his shirt down and sit upright.

Sans forgot about the scars as he gave Red a flat look.

“relax, i wasn’t going to kiss you or anything.”

Red looked away sputtering, face still flushed.

“i didn’ fuckin’ think ya were gonna! i just wan’ned yer heavy ass offa me!”

“riiiiiiigghhhhttt…” Sans drawled, “i guess that’s why you  _ fell _ for me. don’t worry, reddy-boy. it’s not gay if we keep our socks on.”

“shut it!!!” Red screeched.

Sans couldn’t contain the chuckles that bubbled up in his rib cage as he watched the small skeleton rage.

… Wait…..

Sans’ eye sockets widened. Red was angry. And he wasn’t crying, or violent… he was just… supremely uncomfortable, and using his anger as a way to cover that up.

_ (perfect _ .)

Seems Sans has found his ‘goldilocks zone’.

Well, if flirting was going to be what it took…

_ (let the games begin.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!! two weeks of updating in a row???
> 
> sorcery???
> 
> nope! i'm changing my schedule a little. still every other week, but starting from here ^^!!
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like!!


	7. sins of the evasive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> red visits the nurse
> 
> sans also visits the nurse

Red had a new ‘most mortified’ moment, now.

Forget crying in front of Sans. That had been baby shit. 

It had been far better than being _pinned_ by the giant asshole! _Blushing while being pinned by the giant blue asshole!_

Fuck. Red could never show his face at school again. Nope. No way. There was no way in hell he was going to be ever to face Asshole ever again.

It wasn’t even like Red had a thing for Asshole - far from it, in fact. He was simply embarrassed about being put into a situation like that… helpless…

Red had been pinned like that once before - and it just….

It wasn’t fun.

  


There was no way Red would ever find something like _that_ romantic, or any kind of _nice_.

Red had sworn he wouldn’t let anybody else do that to him, take away power from him like _that_ , but Asshole had been single-handedly breaking a lot of promises Red had made to himself.

Of course, Red knew Asshole wasn’t after _that_ , especially not in the middle of the school library. He was just trying to get at Red’s math review for whatever reason. It had even taken Red awhile to register that Asshole had gotten him pinned - which was kind of scary.

Red was always at the top of his game.

_Red was supposed to always be on top of his game_.

Beaten until he was bruised, fractures on his ribs or cracks in his skull, even with his fucking _tooth_ knocked out, Red had _always_ been aware.

It had been knocked into his skull since he was a kid, before he even knew who the fuck Wing was. Back when it was just Red and his mom.

Before big houses, maids, and beatings.

Before hospitals and the scent of death.

Back when it was cookies after school and sleeping on the couch.

Call him ungrateful, but Red just missed being able to come home and feel safe. Those memories were fading fast, though.

It had been over eleven years since then.

Since Red had first seen Wing. First been told by his mother that the two of them were going to get the life they _deserved_.

_got what i deserved, alright_ , Red thought to himself, thumbing his golden tooth.

_Trash_.

That’s what Wing liked to call Red.

Not like Red gave a fuck.

As soon as Red turned eighteen, he was going to high tale the _fuck_ out of that damned house, he was going to - 

“ - Mr. Miller?” Red tuned into the class again just in time to see his english teacher, a _tall_ human lady with blonde hair and brown jellies who wore the thickest glasses Red had ever seen and had a giant birthmark covering most of her left cheek, give him the _look_.

Ms. Kain liked Red, don’t get him wrong, but she wasn’t usually the type to tolerate bullshit. From the tone of her voice, Red knew that she’d already called his name multiple times. Fuck.

“uh, uh, y-yeh?” Red responded dumbly.

The class around him broke into chuckles. The small skeleton flushed and pulled the hood (which had been up the entire day, again, nobody had bothered to tell him to take it off - he’d found his old jacket from middle school in his closet. It was in rough shape, with a few holes, but it didn’t have any outstanding stains and red had already given up on his other one.) around his skull tighter and sunk into his chair.

_fuckin’ kill me…._

“Thanks for joining the land of the _living_ , Mr. Miller.”

Aw. Fuck. Red almost forgot that Ms. Kain was on the same level as Frisk with puns. He held back a startled chuckle - puns always hit his _funny bone_ in a reflexive sort of way.

“‘c-course, ms. kain.” He responded respectfully. She was one of the only teachers Red respected in this hell-school, to be honest. She was fair and didn’t give a fuck about Red being distracted in class as long as he didn’t plagiarize.

Usually.

“...”

Ms. Kain stared at him, silent. It was then that Red knew he should have listened.

“what’dya want, ‘gain…?” He asked hesitantly.

The teacher quirked a brow.

“I wanted to know if you would like to read the poem you submitted to me last week in front of the class.”

Red sunk further into his seat. The kids in the class had another laugh at his expense.

He couldn’t say _no._ Ms. Kain might have been letting him get away with spacing out, but this was the price he had to pay.

… But the thought of reading his fucking _poetry_ in front of the class was humiliating in a way he didn’t want to think about. He wouldn’t have written it if Ms. Kain hadn’t mentioned that she wished there had been more submissions for the school’s creative writing contest.

The small skeleton reluctantly stood, grabbing the paper Ms. Kain was offering him. He recognized the messy scrawl as his own.

She explained to the class while he made his way to the front.

“Red submitted a lovely piece of poetry last week for our creative writing competition. Unfortunately, he didn’t place, but I thought it would be nice to share it with you all today… “

Red stood in front of the class uneasily.

He looked down at the paper.

_i want to get it, but i got bad brains_

_i’m what they like to call a special case_

_i am_

_a coma in the classroom_

_i got detention, ‘cause i made that face_

_nobody believed me that it’s stuck that way_

_i am_

_a shadow in the bathroom_

_back in school, back in place_

_back in school, back in chains_

_back in school, back in my cage_

They had just been some lyrics he’d written for some song that he wanted to write forever ago - and by forever ago, Red means _forever ago_. Some bullshit middle school emo poetry. He really didn’t want to read his bullshit middle school emo poetry in class.

Red opened his mouth to speak, but stopped.

He kept his head down, fingers clenching the paper he was holding.

Right as he got the courage to start speaking, Ms. Kain cleared her throat.

Red paused.

“The hood, please.” She said.

A shaking had came to pull down his hood.

Something Red wanted to do even _less._

The bruise on his chin still hadn’t healed. It wasn’t so intense, but it had spread a little as it healed, and now it was about one and a half times is original size. The red spread from below his jaw up to his chin, right under his teeth. The cream Frisk had gotten for him was for far more minor injuries, although it could have been Wing’s intent that had kept the nasty bruise around for so long. 

(the fucker had wanted it to _hurt,_ and _hurt_ it sure as hell did.)

As Red revealed his face, he could feel his classmate’s eyes on him. His bones itched beneath his clothes.

_don’t look, don’t look, don’t look…_

“.... Would you like to go to the nurse’s office, Red?” Ms. Kain offered after a few moments.

… Red nodded, and set the paper back down on Ms. Kain’s desk as he left, gathering his things quietly, trying to pretend the entire class wasn’t still watching him.

He should have been used to it.

Back in middle school, Wing had been far more liberal with his punishments, before Chillby. Back then, it was pretty well known among students that you didn’t ask about the injuries unless you wanted Red’s fist in your face. Back then, being five feet tall wasn’t so short.

Didn’t mean they didn’t stare.

He wasn’t used to it, though.

After moving districts, he’d hoped to blend into the crowd and become unremarkable.

Seems fate had other ideas in mind.

At least the journey to the nurse’s office wasn’t long - it took about a minute to get there. The door was shut, lights off.

… Red went in, anyways.

A small (still taller than him, unfortunately) yellow lizard monster was on her phone, the light from the screen reflecting off of her glasses. She was giggling darkly….

When she heard Red enter, though, she snapped up, hiding the phone in her lab coat.

… Why was she wearing a lab coat…?

Nurse’s office, right…

“H-Hello! I-I, I’m, um, I’m Alphys! I’m the student assistant today, um, w-would you… like to sign in…?”

“yeh.”

Sh seemed to sweat at Red’s short reply, grabbing a clipboard.

“O-Okay, do you… h-have a note?”

Red shook his head.

“U-um… I’ll let it slide… today… w-what’s your name?”

“red. miller. red miller.”

Alphys jotted that down, “G-Good.. Um, what’s… wh-what seems to be the problem?”

“sum asshole fucked me up.”

“...”

Red rolled his eye lights, “i gotta bigass bruise an’ my teacher sent me here t’ get it checked out. ya gonna get me sum healin’ shit, ‘r what?” He rolled his neck to expose the bruise.

“O-Of course!! Um, if you’ve g-gotten into a fight on th-the school campus, I’m, um, obligated to report that..?”

“dun’ worry, alphy, i ain’t that dumb.”

“I um, I’m sorry?” She replied.

“nah.”

“Okay… um…. Did you want to sit here f-for awhile? I h-have another bed open…”

Red considered this.

… If he skipped the rest of English, then he wouldn’t have to read his poetry. And he already had his stuff with him…

“i dun’ need a bed. jus’ fix me up an’ i’ll sit aroun’ for awhile.”

“That’s, um… okay…” She hurried off to get a jar of some cream, and came back with some gloves on her clawed hands.

“W-Would you like to apply it yourself? Y-You can use the mirror in the bathroom.”

Red blushed as he looked off to the side.

“c-c’n ya help me, pl’se?”

He knew that, from experience, salve was not the easiest thing to spread on your face when your hands ended in claws and your fingers were made of bone.

“S-Sure!” She replied, cheerfully.

So, Red sat in the still mostly dark room, with a lizard putting healing cream on his face.

“why’s it dark ‘n here?” He asked.

Her face grew irritated, “A-Another _student_ is n-napping. ‘ _Sports injury’_.”

Red glanced at the bed that had the curtains drawn around it from the corner of his eye socket.

“... What…. What _really_ happened to your face?” She asked, “N-Not for the record! I just want to know!”

“... sum’un that hates me.” Red told her after a little.

… He didn’t expect the intense look that came over her face.

  


///////////////////

  


Why was Sans still taking P.E., as a senior?

A question he asked himself daily.

The answer is quite similar to the one about why he was tutoring Red.

Consensus: Sans was lazy, and he knew it.

He did _not_ expect to let it get this out of hand, though.

Two credits of physical education. That’s all the sports Sans needed to pass highschool. Two semesters.

As each year passed by… the ticking time clock on how much time Sans had left to actually _complete_ these two semesters shrunk.

Until the beginning of senior year, where Sans had to face the fact that unless he took P.E. for the rest of the year, he wasn’t passing in time. So. That lead him to where he is now.

Running laps on a Wednesday morning.

Not ideal.

Even _less_ ideal, however, was that it was _Undyne_ who was in control of the whistle.

As a senior, like him, she had some off periods of school where she didn’t have class. And during those off periods, such as this one, she liked to TA for the coach.

… Which meant Sans getting heckled by her all class.

“Faster, Gaster!” She cackled, blowing the whistle a few more times. The other students weren’t faring much better than Sans - they were all tiny freshmen and sophomores.

“you’re _breaking my bones_ over here, ‘dyne!” Sans called back, nearly wheezing.

“ONE MORE PUN AND YOU GET ANOTHER LAP!” Undyne yelled, scowling.

Sans allowed himself a few painful chuckles.

… While he was busy reveling in the genius of his own joke, though, he neglected to notice a rock on the track. Why there was a rock on the track, he would never know, but it was placed just conveniently enough that he tripped and stumbled slightly, falling onto his side

“fuck.” he mumbled to himself.

Well, at least nothing hu - 

“SHIT!! You alright, Gaster?” Undyne called as she sprinted over, checking out Sans’ knee which had gotten banged up.

…

Sans had an option.

Tell the truth, and do more laps.

Lie, and go to the nurse’s office….

“ow. it hurts.” Sans said.

Undyne narrowed her eyes at Sans, judging him.

“‘m tellin’ the truth, ‘dyne. i’m in _boneafide_ pain. think i need to go to the nurse’s.”

Her suspicion turned into disgust.

“Just get out of my sight, nerd.”

“will do, fishsticks.”

“DON’T call me that, Gaster!”

“yes ma’am.” Sans told her, ‘hobbling’ to the door to inside of the school.

“AND REMIND PAPYRUS THAT WE HAVE LESSONS THIS WEEKEND!”

“will do.”

…

Luckily, Alphys was helping in the office today, which meant that he just got at _least_ two periods of free napping time.

“yo, alph.” He greeted, strolling into the office. It was empty. Perfect.

She looked up, startled. Her glasses even started to fall off of her face before she fixed them. She shoved her phone into the pocket of her lacoat.

“S-Sans! What are you d-doing here?”

“sports injury.” He replied, pointing to his knee.

… She gave him a hard look.

His knee looked fine, now. Not a trace of his earlier fall.

“... R-Really?”

“hey,” Sans defended, “‘dyne’s the one who let me out.”

Alphys blushed at the mention of her fishy girlfriend, “W-Well… if Undyne authorized it…” She mumbled, grabbing the clipboard to sign him in. “I-I’m guessing you w-want to sit here for th-the next few periods?”

“you _bed_ der believe it.” Sans laughed, falling onto one of the beds.

“... I-I’ll get the lights.”

Alphys killed the lights, and drew the curtains around Sans, giving him a look, “D-Don’t make a sound. I don’t want y-you to bother other students that come in.”

Sans shrugged. 

She sighed and went back to the desk.

… It wasn’t even a few minutes later that another kid entered.

“red. miller. red miller.”

…. Well now Sans was interested….

He’d never pass up a chance to snoop, after all.

He listened as Red ‘described’ his injury. Sans remembered the bruise he’d seen on monday on the small skeleton. Was it the same bruise or another one?

Why did Sans care?

He didn’t. That’s right.

But he was curious. Which is why he was listening in.

Blackmail material. Right.

“... sum’un that hates me.” He heard Red say.

Sans almost snorted. Must not be difficult with that attitude, right? Sans is just a little more surprised hat whoever hit him had the balls to put their hand anywhere near Red’s sharp teeth.

Of course, Alphys started up with her ‘head cannoning’.

“An ex?? A jealous lover??” She asked.

Sans could _hear_ Red’s embarrassment.

“n-no way, lady! jeez!”

“... You know, most girls only bully guys they have crushes on….”

“ i didn’ get hit by no fuckin’ girl, oh my _delta_!”

“Y-You could be in a s-seventy-five-k enemies to lovers fan-fic, a-and not even know it until ch-chapter seventeen!”

“trust me, lady, th’ guy who hit me ain’t lookin’ t’ be my _lover_.”

“Th-Then, maybe, you’re waiting for your prince charming?”

Red sighed, and Sans got the impression that the small skeleton had given up on denying Alphys’ claims. He silently snickered to himself, imagining the type of guy Red would get into a fight with trying to be a _prince charming_.

“har de har,” Red monotoned, “ain’t nobody gonna want sum’un like me.”

“Y-You never know!” Alphys enthusiastically. “I-If Undyne can want someone… like me… then I’m s-sure you can find someone, too!”

“‘ndyne?”

“My girlfriend!! L-Look at her!! She has, um, muscles… and hair…” Sans heard some tapping on a screen, and assumed Alphys must have pulled out her phone to show Red.

“... wow… that is one ripped fish.”

“I know!!”

… The office was silent for a few minutes as Alphys presumably showed off every photo of Undyne she had ever taken.

“... Th-That’s enough about me… wh-what about you? Got e-eyes for anybody?”

“what the heck, lady?! ya gotta one track mind, ya know?”

Alphys giggled, “A little! B-But there’s nobody f-for me to really talk about this stuff with, you kn-know?” 

A small pit of sadness seeded itself in Sans’ ribcage.

He knows he hasn’t been around lately… but has Alphys really been so lonely that she was talking to perfect strangers like this? With her social anxiety, Sans knows it’s difficult for her to meet new people…

Uuughhh…. 

_(not my fault.)_

_(it’s this whole tutoring business)_

He sat back in a contemplative silence as he listened to them converse.

“still!” Red protested, “ya can’t just go aroun’ askin’ people that!”

“O-Oh… sorry… um… I-I guess I got a little carried away…”

Sans heard Red sigh.

“it’s whatever, not like i give a fuck.”

“.............. But, really………….. _Nobody?_ ”

… and then Sans got a front row seat to what Red’s embarrassed shrieking sounded like when he _wasn’t_ on the receiving end…..

Somehow, Alphys managed to calm Red down and they shared some more idle chat before Red left.

Red said something curious, though.

Before he’d left, Alphys had called out; “U-Um, Red? We’re, uh…. Well… maybe not _friends_ , but y-you should know that I’m… uh…. Always _o-open_ . If you need to talk about things. L-Like. Um. Your bruises. Or b-bullies. I, just, I _know_ that it sucks… but… it d-doesn’t _have_ to, y’know?”

…

To which Red responded,

“that’s nice’a ya an’ all, alphys, but i ain’t in no trouble. ain’t lookin’ fer no whistle blowers, ‘neither, y’get me?”

…. 

…

..

.

“Y-You can stop c-creeping, you know, S-Sans.” Alphys called out after the door shut behind the small skeleton, “I kn- _know_ you’re not sleeping…”

“... eh… guilty?” Sans responded, sounding not at all innocent or regretful.

In his mind, however, he was going those two crucial words.

  
_Whistle Blower_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay okay
> 
> so you know how i said i was going to post every other week???
> 
> well. i thought about it,,,, and,,,, this fic pretty much gives me the most joy writing.... so i decided to put my other ones on hold and just write this and Small Town Skeleton and a Hunter.
> 
> yay????
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like??? :DD
> 
> also, the lyrics from red's ~poem~ are from the song 'back in school' by mother mother... i recommend listening to it....


	8. sins of the impulsive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sans is getting more curious,
> 
> red is getting more confused

“so.” Sans idly mentioned to Red one day.

It was the day before Red’s Pre-Cal test, meaning that he had to finish up this review packet soon and have Sans look over it. 

Technically, he probably should have worked on it over the weekend, but he was lazy (the Asshole was giving Red impatient looks, like he knew it, too), Red had also been ‘sick’.

As in, for some reason the bruise on Red’s coccyx wouldn’t heal over and it was making his life a living hell. The one on Red’s jaw had thankful cleared up only a few hours of visiting the nurse last week, but his ass remained colored in one large dark red mark.

Probably since he didn’t apply any healing cream to it. How was he supposed to…? It’s not like he had a great vantage point for it, and it wasn’t easy to probe around for where the cream needed to apply, or even rub it in properly….

_… ugh…_ those words need to be taken out of the medical vocabulary. Red didn’t want to mention anything concerning _cream_ or _rubbing_ in the same thought as his coccyx.

“got any secrets?” Sans continued.

Confused, and more than a little distracted by the packet in front of him, Red replied with the ever so intellegent,

“wat?”

“y’know,” Sans waggled his brow ridges, “ _skeletons_ in your closet? you look like an interesting guy, tell me about yourself.”

Red snorted. (And it definitely wasn’t because of the pun - there was no way Red would find Sans’ jokes _funny_. It was because Sans actually thought Red would fall for his ‘innocent’ schtick)

“yeh right.”

Almost impatiently, Sans began drumming his phalanges on the table. Red noticed that he did that a lot whenever he was annoyed or wanted to do something.

“‘m serious. i’ve been tutoring you for three weeks and all i know is that your dad is wing fellster.”

“so?” Red responded impassively.

He just had one more question, then he could get the Asshole to shut up with his invasive questions.

“ _so_. tell me about yourself. what’s your favorite color?”

Red looked up to give an incredulous look to Sans. Really? _That’s_ what he wanted to know?

… Well…

It wouldn’t _hurt_ to play along a little, right?

Not like Sans is trying to get Red to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. Right?

_blue,_ Red thought.

“b- red.” he told Sans.

A little lie. The fact that blue was the color of Sans’ magic didn’t make it easy to admit that Red found the color oddly soothing.

The taller skeleton shrugged, “fair enough. that’s my bro’s favorite color, too.”

_Sans never mentioned a brother before._

“star sign?”

Red couldn’t help but give Sans the most confused look he’d ever pulled. What the hell did that have to do with anything?

The last time Red had even _thought_ about his star sign was back in middle school, when he - 

When he…

Whatever. It didn’t matter anyway. It was just a load of bull.

“libra.” he mumbled. 

“wow. i’m aries. what a coincidence, you know, they say opposites attract.” Sans told him with a giant grin. There was no pause in between their dialogues... almost like…

Sans had already _known_?

Okay. One that was weird, and two what the fuck.

“i ain’t a damn magnet.” Red bit back with a roll of his eye lights.

He was starting to get more confident in telling Sans off - the giant asshole had stopped with the threats of putting his words down into the report for some reason. Red wasn’t going to question it.

It was doing wonders for his ego, though.

Being able to call someone an asshole and not get the shit beaten out of him was, in a way, empowering.

“oh, heheheh,” Sans laughed.

“???” 

“that reminds me, hey, reddy-boy, are you a _loadstone_?”

“th’ fuck is a loadstone?”

“‘cause i find you _magnetizing!_ ” Sans delivered the punchline with pizzazz, with his brow ridges wiggling and jazz hands.

Red only stared.

_what._

_the._

_fuck._

“was that…”

“ineffective?” Sans shot back, starting to sweat, “seems like it… uh… are you from _tennesse?_ ”

Red was… supremely confused…

“no?”

“really? that’s funny, ‘cause you’re the only _ten i see_!”

Immediately, Red’s face broke out into a vibrant candy-apple shade.

_oh._

_OH._

Sans was… flirting with him??? Badly???

_(unless he was actually really good at flirting and red had no point of reference for how this should be going - should he tell sans to stop? would sans listen to him? did this mean sans_ liked _him??? like_ that _???_ )

In an effort to save face, the small skeleton puffed his cheeks out and scowled.

“sh-shaddup! ya ain’t fuckin’ clever!”

…

Red got the feeling he’d just made a mistake.

Because _now_ , Sans’ grin was even _bigger_.

“aww… but you look so good all _red_ ”

Did… did Sans just _purr????_

Red had no idea what to do. This had never happened to him.

_(except once, but even then, he was more subtle - )_

“stop it! asshole!” Red squeaked. He fucking _squeaked_.

“oh,” Sans started, “but i don’t think you want me to, do you, _reddy-boy~”_

_stop it. oh my delta, red did_ not _think sans’ stupid fucking voice was sexy, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t…_

“i need to finish the packet!” Red yelped, looking back down at his work… that’s right… he only has one more question… one more question…

_if sans was going to let him…!_

Sans just chuckled with that stupid, sexy, deep voice.

As Red finished the problem, he was keenly aware of Sans’ presence. The asshole kept trying to play footsy or _something_ under the table, because his stupid slippered feet kept coming up to touch Red’s.

He’d tucked his feet under himself to prevent it, but Sans only smirked.

_what the actual fuck..._

The worst part, though, was when Red _actually_ finished the packet.

Because Sans took it as an opportunity to sit _right next to Red_ , and lean over him as he softly explained what mistakes Red had made.

////////////

Sans was on cloud nine.

His dumb ass plan was _working_.

Red was sweaty, fidgety and had cursed out Sans at least twice.

_no tears, no running._

Perfect.

Just tiny Red, trapped under Sans’ arm as he explained for the fifth time what theta represented in an equation.The small skeleton was hunched over, looking anywhere but Sans as he tried to listen to what the taller skeleton was saying.

“hey,” Sans said softly, immediately catching the attention of Red, who looked up at Sans with shaky eye lights. “pay attention.”

… Red’s itty witty fwowny face came back as he tried to puff out his rib cage and make himself seem bigger.

“i-if ya weren’t so delta damned _close_ , then maybe i fuckin’ _could!_ ” The small skeleton pouted.

Sans chuckled (something that always drew the _smallest_ of shivers out of Red) as he leaned closer. “am i…. distracting you?”

Vehemently, Red shook his head.

“‘c-course not! y-ya just smell is all!”

“didn’t seem to bother you when i lent you my coat.”

_That_ shut Red up. Fast. The small skeleton looked down at the paper in front of him, trying his hardest to ignore Sans.

Heh.

The more Sans got to know Red, the more he realized the small skeleton possessed far more bark than bite. Even with such wickedly sharp teeth. Like a tiny little chihuahua, shaking and barking and being, overall, very annoying, but still very cute.

Heheh, oh delta, maybe like one of those dogs who had the intimidating spiked collar, but just on a tiny little puppy - 

The idea was almost funnier than the indignant look Red was giving Sans as the taller broke out into tiny snickers.

“what th’ fuck’s so funny, huh?” Red demanded. He was giving Sans a dirty look, like he could see into the blue toned skeleton’s skull and was very offended by what he saw.

Sans completely ignored the short skeleton, only laughing more.

Oh, he could almost see it now - 

“dogs...” Sans wheezed. 

Hey. 

It was partly truthful.

Red rolled his little eye lights and huffed, “fuckin’ weirdo…”

Deciding to be the , _heh, bigger_ person, Sans only hummed.

Out of the two of them, Red was definitely weirder.

Short, all banged up, and so _crude_.

One would never believe he was the son of Wing Fellster without seeing the birth certificate first. What’s more is that Red had done this to _himself._

Which was a little weird on it’s own.

From what Sans had seen, Red was extremely pragmatic. He _tempered_ his temper when the situation called for it, worked rather diligently and stayed out of trouble in school.

Well. At least enough for _Sans_ to have never heard of the small skeleton before the arrangement.

Enough for _nobody_ to have heard of the small skeleton, in fact.

Despite Sans doing daily web searches, he had yet to find any evidence that Red existed beyond the few photos he’d already saved.

_Little skeleton without a past._

With the words ‘whistle blower’ ingrained into his skull, Sans had done a few more searches. None had yielded any sort of results. Just more articles about whatever invention Wing created or some award he was getting, or even the off article focusing on Frisk…

For the first time, Sans took a good look at Red’s scars and wondered where they came from. They looked old. Red couldn’t be that old, right? The guy was still a junior.

And that tooth.

_Solid gold_.

Fit perfectly to his mouth.

The bruises, too - it seemed a bit unrealistic that Red was getting into fights after the two hours he spent with Sans every day after school.

Red shouldn’t have _time_ to get those…

“how do you feel about whistles, red?” Time to get some answers.

Completely caught off guard, Red gave Sans an irritated glance.

“i thought’cha were done with dumb quest’ons…” Red mumbled.

“but reddy-boy, we’re supposed to get to _know each other_ better…” Sans mock-pouted.

“ain’t it enough i gotta waste two hours of my day justa sit here an’ get harassed?” Red countered, “ya know what’cha need to. i ain’t a personal kinda skeleton.”

Well.

Sans couldn’t argue that.

…

Good thing he had a secret weapon.

_Black mail._

Sans hadn’t pulled this move in a while. He was waiting for the perfect moment. He’d known that if he pulled the Cooper Card too often, it would eventually lose it’s effect on Red, so Sans had kept it to himself for the past week and a half or so, but…

“that’s too bad. guess mr. cooper will have to find another tutor for you, one who can connect with you be - ”

Sans could _feel_ Red’s body fill with tension, without even touching him.

The small skeleton’s eye sockets narrowed, his crimson eye lights burning. 

“ya wouldn’.”

Oh ho ho.

Red should know by now not to call Sans’ bluff.

“try me, reddy-boy.”

The two held eye light contact for what seemed like minutes before Red eventually folded.

Sans sat back smugly in his chair.

“... i hate this…” Red spoke under his breath.

The tiny tone the smaller had taken up sent something uncomfortable through Sans’ stomach, but he did his best to ignore it.

_red earned this_ , he reminded himself. Red shouldn’t have done the crime if he didn’t want to do the time.

And Red _had_ done it, right?

… Mr. Cooper had said so, right?

Sans cleared his throat, “i just wanted to get to know you better, huh, red? what’s so bad about that?”

“oh, i dun’ know,” Red started sarcastically, “mebbe th’ fact that i’m forced ta sit here fer two hours a day, or maybe th’ fact that’cha make it yer personal fuckin’ business to get on my delta damned nerves, ‘r mebbe it’s th’ fact that i dun’ know what the fuck t’ do t’ getcha to stop!”

Stop…..?

Sans… did not plan to stop…

_(at least not until red stops first)_

But Red didn’t have to know that….

“it’s easy,” Sans started, internally sweating bullets.

_(what am i doing)_

_(this was not part of the plan)_

“just do whatever i say.”

Red rightfully squinted up at Sans with a disgruntled look on his face.

“uh, no?”

_(fuck)_

_(what do i do now)_

Red couldn’t just _refuse_ . Sans was flying in blind here! He had no idea what to do! This wasn’t a part of the original plan, and now Sans looked like an idiot if he didn’t try to _enforce_ what he said, but at the same time, Sans didn’t _want_ to enforce it!

He didn’t intend on trying to turn Red into a personal servant! Sans was too damn lazy for that!

“yes.”

_(i’m an idiot, i’m dumb, why don’t i just die right now)_

“an’ give me one good reason - “ Red began to snark, probably going to give a very good reason why Red was under no such obligation to do so and Sans was the dumbest person to ever live, but

The timer went off.

Sans internally sighed in relief.

_(let’s just forget this ever happened)_

Sans teleported out while Red was in the middle of a blink, leaving the small skeleton alone and confused.

_(well. okay.)_

_(minor set back)_

_(.... i’m just going to forget that happened and continue with plan c)_

Plan C?

The flirting plan, right.

How had plans A and B already failed?

Why was none of things going according to plan?

And at the end of today, Sans hadn’t even gotten one answer. Let alone the one he wanted. How the hell did such a small and angry skeleton evade Sans’ questions so well? He’d never met someone who was just as sneaky as himself.

_(there’s something going on here, miller)_

_(... and i’m not sure if i want to know what it is…)_

_…..._

_(who the hell am i kidding? of course i do.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :DD
> 
> sans: what's ur favorite color
> 
> red: *lying* red
> 
> sans: and how did that make you feel?
> 
> red:....
> 
> heya! leave a comment if you'd like :D


	9. sins of the sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's.... oh god...
> 
> it's /happening/

Red was kept up all night by how odd Sans had been acting at the last session.

First with the flirting, then with with the _interrogation_ , then the _intimidation???_

Gah! Red didn’t know what the hell to think!

What the fuck did Sans want, anyways???

Was all of that some kind of ploy to get Red to trust him? Did he truly think that Red was someone worth flirting with? That not only would he actually _get somewhere_ , he _wanted_ to be there??? With RED???

The sheer fluster had Red hiding in his pillows, covering his face from view, even in the dark of his own delta-damned bedroom.

The way his voice had sounded when he spoke low and close to Red’s would-be ear… the warmth Red could barely feel coming off of Sans… his… ketchup-y??? Smell???

Red had never really liked the condiment, but for some reason, he had strangely enjoyed being able to smell Sans on him whenever the giant oaf had leant him his jacket…

Tired beyond belief, both from not getting any sleep AND from fighting whatever the hell complicated feelings Red was harboring, Red finally allowed himself to slip back into that moment with Sans, when he’d felt a little less angry and a little… warmer…

It had been _warm_ in Red’s SOUL for the first time since…

And it wasn’t like the warmth Red got whenever Frisk brought him dinner, or whenever Edge said his name right (the tyke still couldn’t really do his ‘R’s right)...

It was more like some sort of _heat_.

And here Red had been, thinking that he’d never feel that type of heat again…

_“it’s easy…”_ Sans’ smooth voice echoed in Red’s head, _“just do whatever i say…”_

“aaaaauuuuuuggghhhhhhhh…” Red groaned, banging his head against the pillow mountain he’d created on his bed.

Why the fuck did that sound so enticing??? That should literally be the LAST thing Red had on his mind!

Sans was a fucking sociopath! He’d use and toss Red in two seconds!!

He was a fucking asshole who didn’t know the meaning of personal space, or privacy, or monster _decency_ , for fuck’s sake!

He, he…

_he tossed his jacket at red, a little blue in the face himself.._

_“you’re cold, right?”_

_he came up with the cheesiest fucking pick up lines_

_“‘cause i find you_ magnetizing! _”_

_he had the deepest, ~~sexiest~~ voice - _

_“just do whatever i say…”_

“fuckin’ fuck shit damn, fuck - ahhhhhh! asshole!!” Red screeched into his pillow pile.

He really wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, was he?

…

The next day, Red’s sleep deprivation showed.

He’d fallen asleep in the four classes he had prior to lunch, and didn’t have much hope for staying awake lettalone passing Mr. Cooper’s stupid fucking test - but what the fuck did _that_ matter. It’s not like his entire life depended on it or anything.

_(he had to find it a little humorous, in an ironic sort of way, that the very tutor who was supposed to help red do_ better _was somehow making things_ worse _)_

So, of course, he was fucked from the start whenever that same delta-damned bully from last week came meandering down the hallway. Oblivious as Red was, it was almost criminally easy for the asshole to slip up behind the short skeleton.

Red didn’t even notice until he was shoved up against some lockers, bruise on his coccyx protesting the cold metal it had just been slammed up against.

The asshole placed his body so that he had Red pinned, one of his arms casually resting on Red’s right side near his skull while the other kept him trapped around the waist.

It forced Red to stare into the beady eyes of his captor.

All things considered, Blake Glistner could have been attractive. He was human, although that didn’t matter much - he had fair skin (alabaster - like never went outside, which, he probably actually didn’t.) and raven hair.

His jelly-orbs were dark, too. Red couldn’t even see his pupils.

But then there was the fact that good ol’ BG, as he was known around the school, was a fucking asshole. And he smelled like one, too.

Kid could learn to take a damn shower and brush his stupid human teeth.

Classic ‘entitled bastard’.

As such, Red had no qualms with snarling up at the human, baring his sharp teeth nad curing at him loudly.

“th’ fuck? get tha hell off, blake-flake!”

The human merely chuckled, leaning in closer. Red had to halt all breathing and lean as far back into the lockers as he could to keep from gagging.

Seriously, why did he smell so bad??

“Cute nicknames already? Aww… you shouldn’t, Mill-Kill, you’re gonna make me blush.”

The bastard’s face was getting startleingly close, and Red was starting to panic.

So.

He did the only thing his buzzing magic could think of.

He _yelled_.

“fuck off!!!” He shouted, shoving at Blake’s chest with force he didn’t know he was capable of.

To his immense surprise, it actually worked.

Blake was thrown back a little, almost falling onto his ass before he righted himself. Unfortunately, it didn’t stun him for long enough for Red to make his escape.

Meaning: Blake was quickly closing in on Red again as the small skeleton tried to scuttle away to _get to class_.

It seems that Red had some good karma on his side, however, because he was saved.

A tall, muscled fish lady barreled around the corner.

As soon as she spotted Blake, her sharp grin doubled in size.

“CAUGHT’CHA, ya disgusting little freak!” She cackled, sprinting towards the human.

… The human looked like he was about to piss his pants. He was pale and shaking more than a skeleton in the dead of winter.

She ended up clothes-lining him and taking him down.

… Red was stunned into silence….

It was a few moments before she seemed to notice him, and Red was almost scared that she was going to hit _him_ next, but surprisingly, she grinned up amicably.

“Hey, kid! Was this idiot bothering you?”

…

Hesitantly, Red nodded affirmative.

“What a fucking freak, amiright?? I’m so glad I got to TAKE HIM OUT!!” She smacked Blake across the face, causing a _very_ audible slap to ring out across the empty hallway. “Maybe THAT will teach you stop sneaking into the GIRLS’ locker room, you SICK FUCK!”

Red cringed.

Welp. Turns out Blake was even more of an asshole than he thought.

Undyne laughed maniacally as Blake groaned in pain… his face was already starting to swell up.

“Hey, kid - I’m Undyne! You seem nice - for a WEENIE, I guess… Just call for me if you ever need help, huh?” The fish lady hauled Blake over her shoulder as she stood, holding out a hand for Red to shake.

Red took the hand and promptly regretted _everything_.

She was… so strong…

And Red was… not…

“HAH!! Sorry, kid! Forget my own strength sometimes, y’know?”

…

“y-you’re… alphys’ girlfriend, right…?”

Red recalled seeing those muscles before - in the many photos on Alphys’ phone that featured them.

Undyne lit up at the mention of her dino-datemate.

“You know her?? SICK, DUDE!! Any friend of Alphie is a friend of mine!! What’s your name, weenie??”

“red… miller…”

She looked Red up and down with a scrutinizing look.

“Hmm… suits’ya! Anyways, have a nice day, y’hear?! And don’t forget to ask for me if you get yourself into trouble!”

And then she was gone.

Red felt like he’d just had a paranormal encounter.

Is this what it feels like… to make friends?

…

In pre-cal, Red took his test.

He was surprised by how similar it was to the review. Which he’d done, for once.

… Actually, it was kind of similar to all the home work he’s been doing, too…

Huh.

He was the last one finished and he was fairly certain he fucked up on his work for a few questions, but at the end, Red… didn’t feel terrible about handing in his test.

Yeah, he knew he got all the _questions_ right, but Mr. Cooper was pretty clear that he would no longer be giving credit if you didn’t show your work this semester.

All in all...

Today was… a surprisingly good day.

//////////////

Sans was… going crazy.

That’s the only explanation for the track his thoughts have been taking, lately.

He had to be, right? Right? Yeah. Completely. He was loosing his mind.

Because there’s no way that this _obsession_ \- because, let’s face, that’s what this _was_ , at this point, with _Red_ of all monsters - was normal. It had consumed his entire night, or so it felt.

Sans couldn’t sleep, too busy thinking of what he’d said and kicking himself over it, feeling like an idiot.

He could only hope that tiny red skeleton was suffering the same as him.

All night, he’d bounced between horrible self-loathing,

_(why did i say that, why why why - )_

The burning need to do _something,_

_(why can’t i find anything about red’s past?! it’s like he doesn’t even exist beyond wing fellster!)_

And worst of all thinking of Red’s _face_.

Yes.

His _face_.

How it looked when he frowned, how it looked whenever the tiny skeleton was concentrating, how it looked whenever he was _blushing._

_(yup.)_

_(definitely crazy.)_

It wasn’t as if Sans was new to sleepless nights.

The nightmares had kept him up when he was younger, but after years of therapy, it was mostly repressed.

Usually, Sans didn’t get a nightmare about _the event_ more than once a month.

This wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t like getting a nightmare or having to pull an all-nighter because of school - this was some sort of all-encompassing _craze._

Sans’ magic had even been buzzing enough, apparently, for some sort of heat to build up in Sans’ SOUL. It wasn’t his _heat_ heat - which was scheduled for next august - because he’d be wanting to do a lot more than think about Red’s _face_ if it were.

Which _also_ meant that whatever was making him think about Red so obsessively wasn’t some short thing caused by magic and biology.

It was _him_.

And wasn’t that just a novelty thought.

…

Sans ended up falling asleep at around four o’clock in the morning, leaving him a measly three hours to toss and turn before he had to face the next day.

…

Sans’ restless behavior continued, however.

He sat in class, unable to stop bouncing his leg.

_(what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck - )_

Sans had literally _never_ had so much excess energy in his life.

_Especially_ after having spent the previous night tossing and turning, unable to shut his sockets for more than three minutes at a time before he was in front of his computer screen again, carrying out useless google searches.

So, while Sans would usually find a good corner to shack up in, or better yet, the nurse, during his free period to nap, he decided to be productive.

_(who the hell am i and what have i done with sans)_

He elected on stopping by Mr. Cooper’s classroom right before lunch.

The human was on his conference period, meaning that he wasn’t holding class. Meaning that he was completely free to answer a few of Sans’ questions.

When he saw Sans at the door, he seemed to visibly brighten. His smile was almost too wide as he focused his attention on the tall skeleton.

“Oh, Sans! To what do I owe this surprise visit? You dropped off your last report on Monday!”

Sans cringed.

Aw.

He almost forgot how much he hated interacting with this human.

Nothing against humans in general… Mr. Cooper was just so… _weird_.

Fake.

Too-Happy.

“i, uh… i had some questions… about red.”

Mr. Cooper nodded, his smile not slipping once as he stood and went over to a filing cabinent, flipping through some folders.

“He isn’t giving you any trouble, is he?” The teacher hummed.

“uh… no… i was just, uh… wondering about his… disciplinary folder?”

Mr. Cooper chuckled, finally coming upon what he was looking for. He pulled it out of the cabinet, allowing Sans to see. It seemed to be rather thick.

“I don’t have exact access to that, you see. But I _do_ have some of the reports _I’ve_ filed. Would you like to take a looksie?”

Sans blinked blankly at Mr. Cooper.

He had… an entire folder, _that big_ … dedicated to reports he’s filed on Red?

On one hand, definitely creepy.

Suuuupper creepy.

Someone should probably really look into Mr. Cooper, because it honestly seemed like he had an unhealthy fixation on ‘punishing’ delinquent students.

On the other hand - 

_(bingo!)_

_(blackmail)_

Sans was starting to accumulate quite an impressive amount of it.

“Yeah, sure.” Sans replied, making a motion to take it from Mr. Cooper.

The human moved it out of his reach at the last second, though.

“Well. I’m not quite sure if I _should_. Confidentiality and all of that… say… why do you want this, anywho?”

Sans could have screamed.

_(fuck you, you creepy fucko!)_

Ah… he was almost starting to sound like Red…

“just hoping it would help me understand some of his behavioral temperments.” Sans responded casually.

_(two can play at this game)_

Mr. Cooper nodded amicably.

“Sounds good to me. And, well, as an active participant in his education, you have the right to this information, don’t you?”

He handed Sans the folder, and as Sans took it, he got the feeling he’d done something he _really wasn’t supposed to do_.

He tried to ignore it throughout the day, but it was almost as if he could feel it burning a hole through his backpack the entire day.

Sans was almost afraid someone would look into his bag and see it… then turn to Sans and accuse him of being a terrible, terrible monster.

He certainly felt like one.

_(stars, where is this feeling of guilt coming from?)_

Sans couldn’t look Red in the face the entirety of their tutoring session.

He was almost relieved that the small skeleton seemed to be in a good mood today - it helped him feel less terrible about the information he had and what he was planning to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up!!
> 
> chapter nine and the boys are finally starting to think!!!!! i'm so EXCITED!!!
> 
> soon, my children... soon we will get all the skeleton smooches... after many povs and a few shenanigans....
> 
> on another note:
> 
> what do you think of me making a tumblr purely for my sans/sans content?


	10. sins of the agitated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> um. yeah.
> 
> so.
> 
> the boys are fighting.

Red’s good day had turned into a good  _ week _ \- and today, Friday, would complete it. . Not even  _ Sans  _ had antagonized him - the blue toned skeleton seemed agitated over something, too busy thinking to pay attention to the short skeleton.

Well. He still shot out some more of those pickup lines sometimes, and he hadn’t stopped sitting next to Red or leaning over him, but Red could ignore that. He  _ would _ ignore that. Especially since Sans looked to have something else on his mind the entire time.

Red would have asked what it was if he actually gave a fuck. As long as it wasn’t him, he was fine. Unlike Sans, he wasn’t an invasive asshole who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’.

On the other hand, who knew? Maybe Sans was a naturally affectionate person who was starting to open up to Red.

_ Which was  _ NOT _ an appealing thought, no, it did  _ NOT _ make Red feel special at all -  _

Today also marked the end of the fourth week he’d been tutored by Sans.

Which marked the end of the first  _ month _ .

Red was… doing well. Surprisingly well.

Things were honestly looking up, and Red couldn’t believe his luck. He only had four more months until the end of the semester, then Sans, who was a senior, would hopefully be out of his life forever, and Red would only have to wait for another six months until he turned eighteen - 

Red’s coccyx had even healed  _ finally _ , which meant that his ass didn’t hurt when he sat down, and also meant that at this moment, he was completely injury-free. 

All in all, he really should have expected to have a little universal punishment for getting too complacent.

Strangely, it happened in the same hallway Blake had cornered him in just earlier that week. Red was heading to lunch this time, though, when he heard his name called from down the hall.

Per usual, Red ignored any acknowledgement and continued on his path, head down and legs working in overtime to compensate for his shortness.

Whoever it was didn’t want to give up though, and called out again. Red heard the heavy sound of jogging as the person sped up to catch up to Red.

Internally groaning, the short skeleton stopped and turned, ready to put on his angry face and tell whoever the hell it was to  _ fuck off _ .

… Red didn't expect to see a happy grin looking back at him. It belonged to none other than Guy, a tall, thin bunny monster with bright blue fur.

_ (creative name, he knows) _

“Red!” Guy exclaimed, slightly out of breath from running down the halls. “Hey!! I almost didn’t catch you. I guess you didn’t hear me…?”

Red grunted in response, looking away.

He didn’t  _ hate _ Guy, per say. Just… hadn’t spoken to him in a while.

They were ‘friends’, kind of, in freshman year. They were both from out of district and thus had no one else to talk to.

Guy was pretty likable, though, so he was quickly adopted into an existing friend group while Red remained lonely and friendless. They hadn’t really spoken since. Red wasn’t bitter, though. Honestly, he probably would’ve ditched Guy soon, anyways.

Red wasn’t really a friendly type of person.

“Anyways!” Guy continued, still smiling brightly, “I’m glad I did! I haven’t spoken to you in  _ forever! _ How are you?”

“good.” Red said blandly. 

Guy’s smile faltered at the short reply, but picked up again.

_ stars, he’s trying too hard… _ Red thought. He almost felt bad for not being more excited to see the bunny.

“That’s great! I was excited to see you because, well… we’re juniors now! Isn’t that so cool? I can’t believe we were both wimpy freshmen like, three years ago! Have you made any new friends?” The blue bunny shifted closer to Red so they could talk more privately, inadvertently herding him towards the wall.

Red complied easily enough, allowing himself to be put between the wall and Guy. He trusted Guy - the monster wasn’t anything like Blake, who would have used this position to his advantage.

Right as Red was about to respond with a negative - saying that he hadn’t even really talked to anyone outside of class these past couple of years - he recalled last week.

Undyne and Alphys… he didn’t really consider them close enough to be  _ friends _ , but Alphys had asked him about his love life and Undyne had saved him from an asshole, so...

“y-yeah, i guess…”

“Hey, that’s fantastic!” Guy cheered, “I was worried you wouldn’t ever get out of your shell!”

Feeling a little more relaxed due to Guy’s enthusiasm and his recent good luck, Red actually cracked a smile at Guy.

“izzat yer way of callin’ me an  _ egg? _ ” Red snickered.

Guy laughed obligingly. 

Another thing Red appreciated about Guy - he was always down to exchange some truly groan-worthy jokes.

“Hmm… maybe freshman you, but now, I guess you could say you’re a  _ spring chicken! _ ”

Red actually laughed at that -

Right up until Guy put his paw on Red’s shoulder.

“Hey, uh, look… I don’t want to ask out of the blue or anything, but do you have a date to the Sweetheart Dance?”

Red looked up at Guy, dumbstruck.

He… wasn’t….

He  _ couldn’t _ be, no way, impossible - 

“s-sorry, but, uh…” Red started, skull heating up.

Guy startled, his own fur darkening around his face as he realized what he’d just said.

“Oh, no - I wasn’t - oh jeez… don’t worry, Red. I already have a date, I just wanted to see if you wanted to join my friends and I for - “

Before Guy could finish his sentence, the air was overcome with the oppressive feeling of aggressive magic.

Guy’s fur stood on end as he looked up to gauge who was letting off the magic, while Red felt his bones start to rattle.

_ what the fuck? _

The magic was explained when Red looked to his left only to see none other than  _ Sans motherfucking Gaster _ at the end of the hall - sockets completely black and joints flushed with the same magic that was putting both Guy and Red on edge.

“Sans?” Guy said, sounding mildly shocked.

“hey, guy.” Sans replied, sounding much calmer than he should have been able to while pouring out so much aggressive intent.

“Is something… wrong?” Guy continued. He stepped a little closer to Red, putting himself between the two skeletons. 

Red remained silent, but inwardly he was relieved for the barrier.

He and Sans had never really gotten along, obviously… and it was nice to know that there was something or rather  _ someone _ keeping Sans away from him while the tall skeleton was so agitated.

He was also glad that even in this position he could still see Sans’ face clearly enough to read his expression.

And  _ boy _ , was he even more thankful that there was a barrier between him and Sans, because when Guy spoke, Sans’ eye sockets  _ narrowed _ .

He looked like he was ready for a  _ fight _ .

///////////////

Sans had had an overall shitty week.

Made sense that today,  _ Friday _ , would complete it.

All week he’d been oddly agitated; whether it be by shitty sleep, the feeling of that folder burning a hole into his backpack or the way Red seemed to be so…  _ nice _ .

Genuinely - not that fake front he’d put up when Sans had first started tutoring him.

_ Actually nice. _

Sans had even caught Red smiling -  _ to himself _ \- out of nowhere! It was like someone had up and switched their roles; turning Sans into a grumpy ball of agitation and Red into a carefree, zero-shit-giving skeleton.

_ It was driving him crazy _ .

Not because Red’s content face was somehow  ~~ cuter ~~ odder than his fwowny fwace, not because Sans was maybe  _ just maybe starting to suspect that the red on Red’s cheekbones whenever Sans shot out another crappy pickup line wasn’t due to anger, but something else -  _

Nope. Not at all.

It was driving him crazy because it meant he was loosing progress - and at a month in, Sans really couldn’t afford to be loosing any progress. The year would go by before Sans knew it and all of his efforts would have been for naught, and wasn’t that just the biggest joke?

Sans puts in effort to not have to put in effort, and it results in him having just  _ played himself _ .

At this point, Red’s complacency was basically a personal attack on Sans. Or so it felt.

But Sans could work with this. 

Hey, he was a flexible guy, after all.

He just needed to figure out why Red was acting differently than usual.

Which was, of course, far easier said than done. There were so many factors - was he getting more sleep at night? Getting into less fights? More fights? 

_ Probably not, he hadn’t received any new bruises… _

New friends?

_ (pppppfffffttttt) _

_ (delta, i crack myself up….) _

Obviously not. There was no way  _ Red _ \- angry, crude  _ Red _ was attracting any sort of company that would inspire the happy change Sans had seen in him.

Unless…

_ Unless he started dating someone. _

_ (no no no, shut that idea down right now, brain) _

_ (thanks, but the image of red acting lovey-dovey is  _ not _ one that i need in my life) _

Sans walked down the hall to the lunch room, idly chewing at the distal phalanx on his thumb as he thought.

He didn’t think anything of seeing a few students chatting in the hallways, even as it was lunch. Some kids used it as a time to make shady deals involving school work and favors, while others took it upon themselves to eat each other’s faces when no teachers were watching.

So as Sans was walking, when he saw one figure boxing in another against the wall, he didn’t give it a second glance.

Probably just two dumb sophomores sucking face. Sans didn’t need to see that, nor did Sans  _ want _ to see that. Sans just wanted lunch. He was hungry.

And, like a normal monster, he paid them no mind.

_ Until _

He heard the smaller one stutter - “s-sorry, but, uh…”

_ He recognized that voice _

_ That was the voice of the skeleton he’d been thinking about, the voice he’d heard in his own head for the past week on a loop that was, that was -  _

“Oh, no - I wasn’t - oh jeez… don’t worry, Red. I already... date, I just wanted to see if you wanted to join… I for - “

_ Red. _

And, apparently, Guy.

The tall blue bunny was one of Mettaton’s theater friend’s boyfriend.

_ So why the in the name of delta was he pinning Red up against the wall, inquiring about a date? _

Sans couldn’t say why his magic reacted so violently, at that moment.

He couldn’t explain the aggression that was welling up inside his rib cage, the sense of  _ betrayal _ he felt in his SOUL.

He didn’t know whether he was  _ angry _ that Guy had decided to pin  _ Red _ \- mostly non-confrontational, irritable, cry-baby Red - or with Red  _ himself _ , who was apparently  _ quite _ friendly outside of tutoring hours.

Oops. Seems Sans had accidentally let his intent radiate into the hallway. Both Guy and Red were aware of him now, looking at him with unease.

“Sans?” The blue  ~~ bastard ~~ bunny asked, crowding in closer to Red.

_ (and wow, who in delta’s name do you think you are, you overgrown rabbit ?? - ) _

_ (... where did  _ that _ come from?) _

Sans is pretty sure he’s never had a problem with Guy before, so all of this pent up  _ rage _ was really misplaced and kind of concerning him.

Who knows. Maybe Sans’ recent agitation combined with his lack of sleep just made for a really bad combo.

Yeah. Let’s go with that.

“hey, guy.” Sans replied, sounding much calmer than he really felt he should have been able to.

“Is something… wrong?” Guy responded. He stepped a little closer to Red, putting himself between the two skeletons. 

_ Oh no, Sans didn’t like that one bit. _

Sans is pretty sure he can  _ feel _ the moment when both of them start to sweat. It stirs something in Sans that’s very  _ smug _ and  _ self-righteous _ .

_ (sins crawling up your back yet, guy? didn’t take you for a cheater) _

On second thought - that’s pretty hilarious. Both of them were cheaters. Maybe Sans should leave and let them stay together, two people who deserved each other.

Out of the corner of Sans’ vision, he could see Red shift a little, almost like he was  _ cowering _ .

Huh.

“i don’t know.” The tall skeleton said casually, observing the smaller, red toned skeleton some more.

_ Red looked… uncomfortable.. _

_ … Maybe he wasn’t as okay with this as Sans originally thought? _

“is there a reason you’ve got someone up against the wall, when you have a boyfriend?”

_ (shit, that was aggressive - play it cool, sansy, play it cool…) _

“i-i, i mean, uh… he looks kinda uncomfortable…” Sans finished lamely.

Guy looked down at Red, who was hiding himself behind the bunny at this point. The monster’s face morphed into confusion before it turned swiftly to realization.

“Oh, no worries there, Sans! I was just asking this guy if he wanted to accompany me to the Sweetheart dance, because - “

Red made a little dying noise in the back of his not-throat.

For Sans, that was a good enough indicator as any that he was  _ clearly _ uncomfortable. Good thing for him that Sans was a reasonable guy.

Sans took a few heavy steps forward.

Guy stood his ground, although he was leaning back a little, trying to keep his distance. Finally, the arm that was boxing Red in dropped.

… Which is when Sans realized that Guy was  _ holding onto Red’s shoulder, and that hand dropped down to tug at Red’s arm, and Red was just  _ letting him - 

“Well, um. Hey there, Sans, you don’t seem to be in a good mood, so we’re just going to skedaddle - “

Before Guy could drag Red away, Sans’ own hand bolted out to grab at Red’s other arm.

Both Guy and Red gave Sans a startled look - the latter pulling his arm to try and take it back. But Sans didn’t really register that, as he was so much larger than him.

“i’m in a perfect mood.” Sans countered, “i just don’t see why you have to talk to red in a secluded hallway against a wall, when he’s uncomfortable.”

Guy looked down at where Red was avoiding Sans’ gaze, “Oh… I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

Red sighed, and tugged his arm away from Guy.

“‘s fine, i ain’t plannin’ on goin’ t’ tha dance, anyway, guy. thanks fer offerin’. i gotta talk t’ this asshole real quick.”

Hesitantly, Guy let go of Red and speed walked out of the hallway.

When he was out of sight, Red turned a livid eye on Sans.

“what th’  _ fuck _ was that, asshole?!?”

Affronted, Sans replied in kind.

“um… i think the answer you’re looking for is ‘thanks sans, for saving me from a creep’!” Sans shot back, tugging on Red’s sleeve again as emphasis.

Red tried to pull back, but he wasn’t strong enough to release himself from Sans’ grip.

… And thus ensued a small game of tug-o-war as the two skeletons hissed at each other….

“asshole!!  _ yer _ th’ fuckin’ creep! Who th’ hell interupts other people’s conversation’s like that, huh?? ya ain’t my keeper, i dun’ even fuckin’  _ know you!” _

Sans grunted and tugged on Red’s sleeve again.

“he was pinning you against the fucking wall, what was i supposed to think?”

Red pulled back with all his might, digging in his heels.

“uuhhh…  _ nothin’ _ !” Red spat like it was obvious, “it wadn’t any of yer business! a few pickup lines does  _ not _ make ya my boyfriend!”

Sans gave a sharp yank to the fabric, ignoring the sound of straining seams.

“yeah, well  _ guy _ sure isn’t, either!”

At this point, Red was just leaning his entire weight backwards in an attempt to make Sans loose traction.

“no, ya dipshit! he’s my fuckin’  _ friend! _ ”

Sans laughed as he tugged as hard as he could on the sleeve.

_ “you have friends?” _

Red gapped up at Sans in obvious hurt while the taller realized what he said.

_ (shit shit shit shit shit shit) _

Red pulled back on the fabric again, only to tumble onto his ass as the seams on his jacket finally gave, leaving a stunned Sans to hold a tube of torn fabric, and Red’s coat missing a sleeve.

They both looked at each other in shock.

“...l-listen,” Sans finally started after a few moments. “i didn’t mean that, okay? and i’m, uh, sorry about your jacket…”

“oh.” Red snarked, snarling up at Sans, “well that jus’ makes everyin’ all hunky  _ fuckin’ _ dory, now dun’ it!”

Again, Sans’ newfound irritability got the best of him.

“well don’t act like i cut of your delta damned  _ arm _ , for fuck’s sake it’s a  _ jacket! _ news flash, your wardrobe is ratty as hell! get some new clothes!”

_ (why is everything that comes out of my mouth the worst thing ever) _

Red shoved himself onto his feet, “fuck you! i fuckin’ knew ya weren’t fuckin’ nice!”

“fuck  _ you _ !” Sans growled, “i’m super nice! i’m the nicest guy around, but you’re just a little… a little - “ In a fit of rage, Sans tore off his  _ own _ jacket, and threw it at Red.

“there!! see how nice i am?? give it back on monday and don’t even bother coming to tutoring today, i’m  _ sick!” _

With that, Sans teleported home.

_ Fuck _ school, and  _ fuck _ Red.

… The large skeleton plopped down onto his bed with a long sigh. He noticed that he was still holding Red’s torn sleeve, and unconsciously brought it up to his nasal cavity to draw in a deep breath….

  
… What the hell was Red  _ doing _ to him…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating last week! i had a super hectic week, and i was planning to update last wednesday, but things came up..... ahhh.... i've just been busy ^^
> 
> also....
> 
> the boys are fighting >:)
> 
> any theories one what's happening next? maybe about how they'll make up?


	11. sins of the insecure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> red gets some new clothes. (after a lot of not so good thoughts and hard conversations)
> 
> also... surprise POV!!
> 
> (no sans pov, sorry :()

After Sans left, Red had clutched the large, blue jacket close to himself, slightly fearful.

He’d sort of known Sans could do something like that, but seeing it was different…

…

Coming home early on Friday turned out to be a mistake.

Frisk was there, without Edge, since he was probably still at daycare because Frisk  _ should have been _ at work, but she  _ wasn’t _ , which means  _ of course _ she’d pay more attention to Red and  _ of course _ she’d notice the dried red tear tracks going down his face and the overly-large hoodie he was wearing.

“Oh,  _ honey _ .” Frisk said when she saw Red. she looked at him with big, sad jellies and spoke to him with so much compassion that Red wanted to  _ combust _ , he just wanted to stop existing, because  _ who the hell was he to inspire this sort of caring? He was a nobody, he didn’t deserve anything - _

And Red… was in no state to put up his ‘angry’ persona. He’d given up the tough guy act around her a few years ago, anyways, since it really didn’t seem to deter her at all. Guess he could say Frisk was determined or some shit.

_ But _ . That didn’t mean he had to give in to the coddling. Red just wanted to go to his room and cry alone, then maybe pass out. Wake up and repeat.

Yeah. That sounded like a good way to spend the weekend. Maybe he’d be so pitiful that not even Wing would come after him.

~~_ maybe he’d cry so much that his magic would exhaust itself and he’d finally bite the fucking dus _ ~~

No, Red. Bad thoughts. Bad fuckin’ thoughts…

“‘s nuthin’” Red attempted to brush off, heading towards the stairs as soon as he saw Frisk stand and start to walk towards him.

It was the  _ last _ thing that he needed, because, as previously stated, Frisk was a determined human who always got what she wanted, and if she wanted Red to spill this metaphorical guts then it wouldn’t take more than a sympathetic look and some iteration of something vaguely caring, and Red would be putty, and he  _ really _ didn’t want that - 

“ _ Sweetie. _ ” Frisk sighed.

Red tensed. Oh Delta.

“It’s not  _ nothing _ , what happened? You’re home early, are you sick?”

Red grunted, continuing on his journey to his room.

“no.”

Then.

The unexpected.

Frisk had always tried to extend her caring towards Red. She’d always been thoughtful and available, but Red had never sought to reach out to her, to build the connection she kept offering.

She wasn’t  _ pushy _ , though. 

Frisk played like someone looking to win the long game - whether it be from subtly asking about his day, buying him something he needed but didn’t really want to ask for,  _ especially _ not in front of Wing, or just offering a listening ear, she had been slowly making her way past Red’s defenses.

Which is why, when she hugged him, Red was frozen.

He was between wanting to throw her off and sob pathetically in her arms. 

Instead of either, he remained frozen.

“Red,” She told him, “you can tell me. I’ll always be here for you, I want to make sure that you’re safe, always, I know I’m not your mother - “

And  _ that _ sprung Red into action.

He pushed Frisk off, refusing to meet her eyes.

She was right.

Frisk was  _ nothing _ like his mother.

Red didn’t remember a lot - she died when he was only ten years old, but there were some things that stuck.

She was determined, a lot like Frisk. Maybe Wing had a type.

But Red’s mother… was colder.

She didn’t give Red the affection he’d often craved when he was younger. She cared for him, yes, but there were always some sort of hidden expectation to do  _ more _ , to be  _ better _ than she was, to carry them out of the slum they lived in, and into the high life.

Something that had been achieved whenever she found out the father of her child was actually a multi-millionaire.

Red’s mom… never tried to make a bridge between her and her son. She’d relied on the innate sense of unconditional love that was supposed to be there.

Maybe that’s why red had been so used to the coldness that Wing showed him. 

It was normal.

But Frisk… was warm.

A warmth Red can really only recall receiving from one other place, but that had ended up as a disaster…

So yeah.

Frisk wasn’t Red’s mother, not by a long shot.

But that wasn’t bad. She was different. She didn’t try and remind Red of what he’d lost, she did her best to be something  _ new _ .

And right now, Frisk’s jelly eyes were looking at Red with something like  _ hurt _ , and it was so strange, that Red was beginning to feel that  _ hurt _ himself.

“y-yer not…. my m’ther…” Red told her.

Frisk’s face dropped.

“but… ‘cha dun’ need t’ be… i’m… it’s… uh… yer c-cool…”

Red felt himself blush, _ oh delta, he felt so  _ dumb _ , he was an  _ idiot _ , ‘yer cool???’, what the  _ fuck _ was that?? _

Frisk’s face morphed into surprise as she looked over her step-son, the kid she didn’t ask for, the kid that had been dumped on her by Wing - 

And Red couldn’t comprehend why she was smiling.

“That’s - That makes me very happy to hear, Red.”

“uh. yeh.” Red replied shortly, feeling hot embarrassment coiling up his face.

“... Well.” Frisk said, “Come to me if you need anything… or if you want to talk about what happened, okay? I’m here for you, always.”

Red nodded jerkily, still not looking Frisk in the eyes.

There was something in his chest, something that felt like it was close to bursting, something that wanted to let itself be  _ known _ , that wanted to let Frisk know that Red cared about her as much as someone with a fucked up brain and a fucked up SOUL like him could - 

“i need, i uh, i need new clothes!”

_ fan-fucking-tastic, red. _

_ so eloquent. _

Frisk blinked at Red, confused.

The small skeleton shucked off the coat Sans had given him, showing off the ripped sleeve of his jacket. He - his wardrobe was fucked, he knew. Red hadn’t been bought new clothes since he’d stopped growing, which was in middle school. All of his clothes were at least five years old, at this point.

Each had endured whatever ‘fights’ Red had gotten into or Wing’s abuse, so it was no surprise they were all ratty as hell and coming apart.

As angry (and a little scared) as Red was about Sans literally ripping off his clothes, he knew that it was only a matter of time until something like that happened.

Frisk examined the torn clothing.

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t expect something like this to happen eventually. Did you get into a fight?” Frisk asked.

Red jerked his head from side to side.

“ _ n-no!” _ He huffed, “‘t was that fuc - flippin’ ass- jerk!”

Frisk blinked a few times before that same, familiar sly smile came over her face.

“I knew I recognized that jacket ~ How nice of him to lend it to you!”

Red nearly shrieked.

_ “he ain’t nice!!” _

The human woman laughed, and Red kind of relaxed internally, because it finally felt like things were kind of sort of going back to normal, which is something he could appreciate.

///////////////

Frisk was an opinionated person. She wasn’t really quiet about her opinions, either.

But for some reason, when it came to her step-son, an angry, short skeleton monster with cherry-red magic and a penchant for swearing, she was rather reluctant to speak up.

Step-Mother jitters?

For some reason, it felt like she was intruding on her husband and his son’s home when she first went to live with them.

Wing himself was a charming monster, all suaveness and intelligence. He was almost dastardly good-looking, and, paired with his obvious smarts, Frisk was rather helpless to fall for him.

It had started with meetings at gallas they both happened to be invited to, until she had gone to tour the Royal Labs, and they’d shaken hands, and he’d asked her if she wanted to go out for lunch, his break was at one - 

And. Well. The rest is history.

She now had a husband and two sons.

Edge was, of course, the light of her life. The tiny baby reminded her of his father with both his looks and hilarious temper.

(Frisk could admit to purposely pissing him off just to see the way his grin tightened and his foot tapped. She was lucky, she supposed, to have a husband that she knew would never lay a hand on her with ill-intent)

But his brother…. Red….

He was a tough nut to crack, to say the least.

Wing had warned Frisk that the two sometimes got into arguments that resulted in a  _ physical _ disagreement.

It didn’t mean she had to like that sometimes she could hear their voices rise in the other room, then see Red with marks and bruises for days after.

She  _ knew _ it wasn’t her place to correct them.

And Wing - she knew - had never touched her nor Edge out of line, had never hit them or raised his voice.

Frisk had no doubt he treated Red with the same courtesy, within reason.

And that’s why she kept her opinions to herself. As long as she reminded herself that Wing  _ wasn’t _ mindlessly beating Red, that it was  _ not _ one sided, she could live with herself.

That didn’t mean… he couldn’t try and persuade Red to be less  _ ornery _ .

Wing had a stressful job, and Red’s general demeanor was a constant grating on Wing’s nerves.

Honestly, though, to Frisk, the two were like oil and water.

But what did she fall under?

Did she mix well with Wing? Did that mean that she would forever be incompatible with Red? That they would never get along?

If she sided with Red, did that mean that her and Wing would always have this disagreement, that eventually it would tear them apart?

Frisk liked to think that maybe she was salt, in this equation. Universally dissolved in water, but could also co-exist with oil.

So she made it her mission to be the bridge between father and son. She gave them time to spend with each other, which didn’t always end well, but it was a start. She gave both tips on how to handle each other, she attempted to treat Red with nothing but kindness and understanding - 

And it was working? Sort of?

Frisk could tell that Red was starting to open up with her. He always strained to be on his best behavior, treated Edge affectionately and was polite with Frisk.

It was hard pressed to get him to ask for help in any situation, but slowly, she could see that she was breaking his outer shell.

Which is why she was delighted to see him start to open up at school, too - the tutoring was really good for him, she could tell. The way he’d go on and on about the ‘jerk’ who was tutoring him, and now he’d come home with that boy’s jacket  _ twice! _ Twice!

Perhaps, selfishly, though, she was more happy that Red had finally asked for her help outright.

For clothing.

It wasn’t anything like ‘ _ can i have relationship advice?’ _ or  _ ‘please help repair my father and i’s relationship!’ _ , but it was a start.

And Frisk would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy getting to dress Red up like a doll, so there was that, too.

It was Saturday, and she was having the time of her life at the mall with her (step-) _ son _ , helping him pick out clothes that he would appreciate and enjoy!

Edge was at home with Wing, having some bonding time, so she could help Red pick out a new wardrobe.

Firstly, they had started with a few items that Frisk knew would definitely make its way into Red’s regular-wear; plain t-shirts, sweaters, shorts similar to the ones he wore everywhere, a few pairs of jeans.

Red had reluctantly agreed to try on the clothes in-store and show Frisk the fit.

Each time, his skull had gone that familiar cherry-red as he sputtered and crossed his arms, scoffing at Frisk’s compliments, hands fidgeting.

But Frisk had noticed Red looking at some of the other stores, too…

Like he was doing now.

The store he was looking at was similar to some of the others she’d seen Red take inconspicuous peaks at - it had mannequins outside wearing cute dresses and skirts, tons of pink inside and cheery music blasting from inside.

At first, Frisk might have assumed Red was looking in for  _ other _ reasons… but he looked genuinely thoughtful when looking at the mannequins and what they were wearing.

“Did you want to go in?” Frisk asked gently, tapping Red’s shoulder to get his attention.

Red flinched, looking away, starting to sweat.

“n-no! i’m… it’s just…!”

Frisk tsked, walking towards the store.

Behind her, she could hear Red start to panic.

“s-stop!! i-i, i dun’ - !!!”

“Why not? The store seems cute.” She said nonchalantly, walking straight towards it.

“it’s…. it’s…” Red’s tone dropped until he was whispering. “that’s a  _ girl _ store…”

“So?” Frisk continued walking, feeling victorious as she heard Red’s footsteps fall into line behind her.

“imma look dumb…” Red mumbled.

“I think you’ll look adorable!”

Red offered no response other than the way his skull’s blush deepened.

…

Inside the store, Frisk was quick to ward off any attendants trying to see if she wanted help - not only because she didn’t want to embarrass Red by explaining that they were here for him, but also because like  _ hell _ she was going to let them interrupt her (step-)mother and son bonding time!

Red didn’t pick anything out himself - but Frisk saw the way his gaze lingered on a few things, so she grabbed them, much to the small skeleton’s fluster.

At the end, Red agreed to try on a few of the items for Frisk to check the fit, but didn’t come out of the changing stall, instead shouting ‘it fits!’ over the door to let Frisk know that he liked and wanted the garments.

When he exited the stalls, dressed back in his usual ratty attire, he was blushing furiously with clothing piled up in his arms.

…

Frisk gave a nasty glare to the lady at the checkout, who was giving rather obvious confused looks to the tiny skeleton who shuffled forward to place the outfits on the counter.

… 

On the car ride back home, Red was quiet.

… But Frisk could see the small smile on his face, and noticed how the clutched the shopping bags to his ribcage tightly.

That night, Red didn’t join the family for dinner, but reached out to grab Frisk’s hand and give it a quick squeeze before he disappeared in to his room.

“ _ thanks. _ ” he said softly.

… Frisk was in a good mood for the rest of the weekend.

Progress! 

(She didn’t mention Red’s tears the next day, as she secretly watched him clutch the black jacket she’d snuck into the bags, a replacement for the one she found in the trash a few weeks back)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhggggghhhhh
> 
> i'm sorry! i didn't update last week!!!! i've been super super busy with the end of the semester coming up, so i haven't been able to write as much as i've wanted to. i don't plan to make this a habit, don't worry!
> 
> and um... i guess now is a good as any time to talk about it...
> 
> i've planned for about 25 chapters for this work, about 2k words each, ending at about roughly 50-60k in total. if i can keep up my mostly-weekly-updates, then that means that i've got about 13-16 weeks left before this project is finished! that's about four months!
> 
> so!!!
> 
> after i finish this, i want to write something new! sanscest, of course, but i've got a few ideas.
> 
> which is why i set up a poll! you can vote in [this poll](https://linkto.run/p/SJ41DPIG) to see which story i'll write next. there's three options, three separate ships, three separate plots!
> 
> voting is anonymous, so go for it! i'll be looking forward to the results! and the poll will stay open until i finish this fic!
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like!


	12. sins of the indecisive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we get to see how sans is handling the fight.
> 
> another surprise pov???
> 
> and no red pov, sorry.
> 
> we'll be back to our regularly scheduled povs next chap ;)

To say Sans had a terrible start to the weekend would be an understatement. From his argument with Red to forgetting that Undyne was coming over to train Papyrus, and the subsequent invitation he’d given Alphys to hang out while the more energetic duo was working on Papyrus’ pitching.

Undyne was the assistant coach for Papyrus’ baseball team, and she regularly came over to help Papyrus with various baseball related things. Like pitching. And batting.

And other exercises that made Sans’ ribs hurt just thinking about them.

Usually, Sans would just stick it out in his room until Undyne left, cautious due to that one time she’d tried to get Sans to join them on a jog. Since Alphys was over, though, he was basically forced to watch the two due to the dino wanting to admire her girlfriend.

Sans _tried_ to be supportive. He called out affirmations to Papyrus every once in a while and made sure that he was hydrated.

For the most part, though, Sans just sat on the porch with Alphys while they discussed whatever random anime the drake had discovered between the last time they’d hung out.

“S-so then, Kaneki d-discovers that he’s, that, um, he’s part d-dragon, s-so he runs away to, um, to ahh… to train with, um, the d-dragon master, and… um… I haven’t g-gotten any further…” Alphys finally finishes, her hands fidgeting.

“neat.” Sans responds shortly, not really meaning to sound as bored as he did. Alphys knew that he didn’t share the same affinity for her shows, though, so it amused her more than anything else. At the very least, Sans knew she appreciated having someone who would listen to her rants.

“I, um, _I_ thought so… so…. Um…. I’ve been meaning to ask… um… what’s up with that Red kid?”

It took Sans frankly an embarrassingly short amount of time to realize exactly what Alphys as referencing. That day in the Nurse’s Office.

He’d been sort of hoping that she would forget about that day. He’d brushed it off at the time by stating that he simply wanted to get in on whatever drama Red was involved in. Then, Alphys had indulged him with nothing more to say on the topic than a hum of doubt.

And here Sans was, now. Cornered in his own home.

So.

Sans decided to do what he did best.

Evade the question. He was practically a master of evasion, after all. 

(hey, a guy could dream, at least)

“red kid?” Sans hummed, pretending to be completely innocent.

Unfortunately, Alphys was all too used to putting up with Sans’ bullshit. She simply leveled Sans with a flat look, her fidgeting stopping completely, her entire demeanor shifting to be more intimidating.

…. A gossip starved Alphys is not one you wanted to mess with….

“I-I let you eavesdrop, y-you can tell me why you were being s-such a creeper in the f-first place, Sans…”

The tall skeleton sighed, his gaze shifting to the side, thinking of any possible topic that could get her to back off. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Alphys - she was one of his best friends since childhood. It was more along the lines that his plan was a secret. It was very much against the rules and could probably get him into a lot of hot water with the administration. His hours could get cancelled.

His graduation rode on this secret.

Of course, his reputation was great, and he could probably get away with a lot of other things - _had_ gotten away with many other things in the past.

But a breach academic integrity wasn’t exactly something that schools didn’t tend to forgive easily. Just look at Red.

… 

But… it couldn’t hurt to tell Alphys, could it?

She wouldn’t snitch. And, if Sans felt like she might, it was an easy fix. He hated to use her own insecurity against her, but as one of her only friends, Sans felt like he had considerable leverage to keep her mouth shut if he needed.

Did that make him a bad person?

Probably. ~~Yes~~. 

Well.

“it’s the kid i’m tutoring.” Sans replied, “that was him.”

Alphys instantly brightened.

“Oh! Th-That’s great! I, um, I can help out if y-you need?”

Sans let out a tense sigh, looking away completely. He didn’t have the (heh) _guts_ to spill the beans while looking her in the face.

“ah, no, um, he’s uh…. quitting.”

The yellow dino’s face broke into a confused expression. Sans mentally prepared himself for what he was about to admit. He could feel himself starting to sweat.

“Really? Um… that’s… u-unfortunate…”

Sans shrugged. Okay. Well. Now or never.

… 

“he doesn’t know it yet.”

… Alphys’ posture grew less confident the more confused she became.

“He… doesn’t…?”

“it’s all part of my plan,” Sans began to explain, rushing to speak. It almost felt like there had been a dam keeping him from speaking, and now all the secrets were rushing forth. “i only need fifty hours to graduate, which is about half the semester. if red quits early, i get all my necessary hours and a free two months off.”

Alphys… didn’t seem to be so receptive. She looked down at her hands, fiddling with them and generally making Sans very nervous. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his footing, “great, right?”

Alphys was silent for a little. She seemed to be mulling something over in her head.

“B-But if he quits, um, correct me if I-I’m wrong… y-you said he f-fails, right?”

Sans nodded affirmative.

“... Why… why would, um, …. Why would you do that to him?” Alphys’ voice was a near whisper, sounding uncertain. Like she didn’t know if she was missing something.

Honestly, Sans didn’t know if _he_ was missing something here. Why should she care? Did she really care more about the graduation of some junior over her best friend?

But… Sans still felt like he had to answer her. To justify himself.

However, that’s where the skeleton’s brain slowed. He… He had a reason. 

It was because Red was a cheater…..

…. Because he’d taken his chance and squandered it, insulted the education system….. 

….If it was going to be Sans vs. Red, Sans would come up on top, he…

“he cheated. the only reason he got the deal was because his dad is loaded.”

Alphys remained silent. She was giving Sans this evaluating look he didn’t like.

“S-Sans, um… _y-your_ dad is, ah, ‘l-loaded’.”

Sans snorted, dismissing the comparison with a wave of his skeletal hand.

“yeah, but that’s _different._ ”

“.... I-Is it?”

_(of course.)_

_(... isn’t it?)_

_(i’ve never cheated. would never.)_

“it is.” Sans said finally, his tone harsher than he really meant for it to come out. Before he can take it back, though, Alphys has already reacted.

She’s huddled into the neck of her sweater, sweating like crazy.

“fuck… i, uh… sorry, alph. didn’t mean to sound like that.”

When Alphys looks back up, she still looks defeated. It hurts Sans inside, but he knows that it’s necessary to be firm here. He can’t let there be any loose ends.

_(and no matter what, he can't let himself think of the sleeve he still had stashed away in his nightstand drawer. it still smelled like red. sans doesn't know why he keeps it around.)_

//////

Alphys had never had many friends. She wasn’t exactly a social sort of person; even just _thinking_ about most kinds of social interaction gave her hives.

She’d rather write fan fiction of people wanting to be her friend than actually talking to the exact same people who she saw passing in the halls every single day. At times, she wished she could be more out-going, but it was pretty much a hopeless cause.

Even so, Alphys had always been proud of her innate sense of kindness. Despite her nerves, she’d always strived to do right by others, which hadn’t lead her astray once.

At least… until now.

Sans was expecting an answer, and Alphys wasn’t sure if she could give him the one he wanted. She wanted to. She really _really_ wanted to - she wanted to be the type of person who was less indecisive, who didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve and who wasn’t such a _bleeding_ heart... but…

Alphys _wasn’t_ . She was picky, and insecure, and cared _too_ much about people who didn’t care about her…

And maybe that was the issue here.

Sans was one of her only friends. They’d known each other since primary school and were each other’s only friends for much of that time, back when they were both insufferable and chatty nerds.

To think of letting Sans go _hurt_ Alphys much more than a physical wound ever could, he was like another part of her. It had already been painful to watch as he got more distant throughout the semester, even though she knew it was because he was tutoring Red.

And with Undyne being busy helping coaches and kids, Alphys had felt lonely.

Really, what _was_ one little secret in the face of a life long friendship?

_But Red…_

Alphys remembers the day in the Nurse’s Office perhaps a little too vividly. It’d been the first time she’d held a conversation longer than a polite exchange of words with anyone other than Sans or Undyne for months.

He was nice-ish. A little rude, but she could look past that.

He didn’t deserve what Sans was trying to do to him. No matter what Red did or what Sans _thought_ Red did, he didn’t deserve to have his second chance stolen away like that.

And to think that _Sans_ of all monsters was the one trying to take it away…

But she’d heard the double meaning to his words. Alphys knew what was implied.

_him or me?_

It was a dirty trick, but Sans only used it because he knew it would work. Because as much of a bleeding heart as Alphys was, she’d never give up her friendship with Sans.

… Even if it apparently meant that little to him.

“... O-Okay… um… c-can I tell Undyne, at l-least?” Alphys hesitantly responded.

She hated the way Sans’ grinned curled back up and how his posture slackened. She hated that she felt so… _wrong_ for agreeing to keep this secret.

“let’s just keep this between us, huh?”

Alphys nodded as a cold sweat broke out over her scales from anxiety.

She wasn’t good with secrets as it was, but keeping it from Undyne? The fish lady was quite honestly the love of Alphys’ life. The pair kept next to nothing from each other.

It felt like she was betraying her girlfriend as much as she was betraying Red.

“I… I won’t tell anyone, Sans. B-But, um… Red… he’s a good kid… you know?”

Sans grit his teeth. “yeah yeah. what makes him so good and me so bad?”

“F-For one,” Alphys started sarcastically, feeling a little affronted at the skeleton’s cursory tone, “H-He’s not trying to f-flunk anyone.”

“ _i’m_ just looking out for myself.” Sans said darkly.

It was obvious that Alphys had struck a cord within the blue toned skeleton. He was instantly on edge.

“It feels l-like that’s all y-you _do_ these days, Sans.” Alphys sighed, “I c-care about you, but s-sometimes I wonder if…”

_“if?_ ” Sans cut in voraciously.

“If you care about me at all!” The tiny dino exclaimed, “I-It’s always about _you!_ Mr. Can-D-Do-No-Wrong! D-Do you even know anything about-t Red?”

As Alphys stared Sans down, she could faintly hear Undyne still coaching Papyrus. She was teaching him about how to throw a curve ball. Alphys was glad they were distracting each other, or else she’d be all over Sans for raising his voice at the dino.

“alphys…” He replied, finally. He was sweating too. Alphys felt a little better in knowing that Sans was just as nervous about this fight as her. Served him right. “... i do care about you. you _know_ that. we’re best friends… but… i don’t see why you care so much about red…”

“I-I’m wondering the same thing, S-Sans… why _do_ you care a-about him so much? C-Can’t you just leave him alone?” Alphys offered hopefully.

Sans shook his head, dashing those hopes.

“he’s different, alright? he’s got these weird little ticks and a sad face and just…” Sans huffed in a frusterated manner. “i can’t explain it. he’s bad. i’m not wrong, i’m _never_ wrong.”

“W-Well maybe you are.”

Sans looked shocked.

“I… I’m going home, Sans. I… um… I won’t tell anyone else about your plan, b-but at least reconsider…” Alphys stood, packing her things. Undyne yelled over a question, but Alphys waved it off.

“I feel a little sick! I-I’m going home to rest, okay?”

Undyne didn’t look to convinced, but Papyrus was practically tugging on her shirt to ask her a question, so the fish monster wasn’t able to over analyze the situation.

“Bye babe! Drink plenty of water, YA HEAR??”

…

Alphys smiled.

“Uh-Um…. Yeah… I will…”

Sans only watched Alphys as she left, stuck in the same place he had been when they were talking.

She hoped this wouldn’t ruin their friendship… she just wanted to do right by _everybody_. Even if that meant standing up for herself for once.

It wasn’t a _bad_ thing. Confidence was just… scary… sometimes. But worth it. Who knows? Maybe Sans will change his mind.

Hah.

Not likely, but Alphys didn’t feel like a piece of garbage, so there was that.

Undyne would be proud if Alphys was allowed to tell her.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alphys: isn't that kind of mean :/ ?
> 
> sans: yes but he tried to cheat the system sooo
> 
> alphys: .... you literally....
> 
> sans: what?
> 
> alphys: never mind....  
> ___  
> sorry for the absence!!! oh jeez, it sure has been awhile, huh? i took a break for finals last year, and thought i was going to write over my break... yeah... didn't happen...
> 
> for some reason now that i'm starting class next week i've got more motivation to write??? i'll try and pick it back up with weekly updates! :D
> 
> by the way, there's a poll [here](https://www.poll-maker.com/poll2624040xe52f4C2E-75) that you can take for what story i'm going to write next! it's anonymous and open right up until this fic is finished :D.
> 
> have a nice day and leave a comment if you'd like!


	13. sins of the falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mostly red wants attention, doesn't get it, and has a little fit.
> 
> sans having realizations doesn't really help.

The entirety of Sunday, Red avoided Wing by staying in his room. He kept himself busy by going over all of the clothes Frisk had bought him and feeling the texture of each one, organizing them into outfits and trying on each one, hands trembling, like he would be caught at any second.

Unlike every Sunday for the past three years, Red felt something light in his rib cage when he thought about Monday.

It was the most delta damned odd thing, but he was _excited._

He _wanted_ to wear his new clothes. He wanted to _be seen_ . For once in his life, he _wanted_ people to look at him.

It was a strange feeling, and it didn’t help the way his hands shook, didn’t help the way he felt like he was going to throw up at any second, but it was strangely _good._

Of course, the giddiness turned to nervousness which turned to anxiety on Monday, but Red steeled himself, remaining calm.

… Okay.

That’s a huge fucking lie.

He was hiding in Frisk’s car, trying desperately to throw up so he could convince her that he was too sick for school.

“Don’t worry, Red, you’re _adorable!_ ” Frisk reassured him, stroking his back soothingly.

Red bit his ectoplasmic tongue to keep from calling her out on his bullshit.

Like an idiot, Red had decided to wear a skirt.

Of course, he paired it with a soft carmine sweater that went midway down his femurs, but it still didn’t hide the fact that he was wearing a _skirt._

It was a black skirt. Pleated, it fell right down to his patellas. It was also soft, modest, and very pretty, but right now Red felt like it was _horrible_ . _He_ was horrible.

Why did he even think he _could_ wear a skirt? He wasn’t a girl!

Just because a few people gave him a few scraps of attention doesn’t mean that he can do whatever he wants! Shit!

_Fuck fuck oh shit fuck…_

He was disheartened to feel that Frisk pulled away, the comforting warmth of her hand bleeding away until all Red could feel was the cold sweat accumulating under his sweater and chilling him, heh, _to the bone._

Until he felt something warm, and big, and soft draped over his shoulders.

For an unreasonable second, Red thought it was Sans’ jacket, warm and comforting and protecting him - 

Until he remembered that he’d stowed it away in his bag. Frisk helped him do his laundry on Saturday, and he’d been able to ‘sneak’ the jacket into the load for his clothes.

Instead, Frisk had draped his new jacket over him. It was also big and warm, but it was black, like the one he’d accidentally ruined had been.

Immediately, like a hermit crab finding a new shell, Red shoved his arms through the sleeves and pulled the hood up.

“Better?” Frisk asked.

Edge babbled from the backseat.

Red’s breathing slowed. The jacket slowly did its job of warming him up.

Sheepishly, the short skeleton nodded.

Phew.

Okay.

It’s no big deal. He could just flip his hood up and hope nobody recognized him.

New clothes, new jacket. Besides the fact that he was a skeleton and probably one of the shortest people in the school, nobody would be able to tell who it was. He could just float through his classes, silent… It’s not like anybody paid attention to him anyways.

“You gonna be okay?” Frisk elaborated.

Red nodded again, jerkily.

_delta dammnit… can’t believe i fuckin’ broke down in front’a her…_

He wanted to get out of the car and pretend none of this ever happened. 

Frisk would probably let him live out that little fantasy, but he knew that it wouldn't change the pitying looks she was going to give him when he got home.

Maybe he should skip dinner again.

“y-yeah… imma just… go…” Red replied quietly, slipping out of the car, toting his backpack along with him.

Calm, steady breathes. Nobody’s looking at you… 

And during the entirety of the day, nobody did.

And Red felt… good.

Nobody fucking cared that he was wearing a skirt.

_Literally nobody._

(Except for Ms. Kain, who’d given him a cheeky wink and a thumbs up when he’d walked into class… no he didn’t fucking blush…)

It was just for Red. Like he’d wanted it to be. He got to feel pretty without people jeering at him and whispering…

Until it was time for tutoring.

Red hadn’t _forgotten_ that he was supposed to see Sans that day. He’d even brought the jacket, like Sans had requested.

He just hadn’t realized until now that it meant that Sans was also going to see _him._ In the skirt. As in. Wearing a skirt.

Red could combust in embarrassment.

He didn’t think Sans was going to make fun of him.

He just… felt weird at the thought of Sans seeing him wearing something cute.

Not that he thought _Sans_ would think he was cute!

Not that he _cared_ if Sans thought he was cute!

He just…

Fuck.

He wanted Sans to think he was cute.

Last Friday had been scary. Sans had been angry, Sans had _torn his clothing._ _(But he hadn’t hurt him, not really. Not when Red had hit him, not when Red had called him names.)_

Sans had implied that Red was unlikable and couldn’t make friends - which was the truth, honestly - but it still pissed him off!

So yeah! He was going to make Sans see how cute he was - Sans could fucking _choke_ on how cute Red was!

Red was going to be so fucking cute that Sans was going to want to be his friend, and - 

_Wait._

Red… did not want to be friends with Sans.

Definitely not.

No. He was just going to prove to Sans that he was cute. And could make friends.

Maybe he _should_ go to the dance with Guy and his friends. Just to show Sans that Red could make friends.

Yeah… yeah!

Red was going to fucking wear a skirt, and he was going to show Sans that he was cute, and there was nothing anybody could do about it!

…

Red tried to keep this confidence when the time finally came for him to go to the library, but he felt a repeat from Frisk’s car coming on as he sat alone among the shelves.

Thankfully, Sans was late, but Red wasn’t able to gather his thoughts.

Sans was going to think he looked stupid.

Fuck.

This was a bad idea.

The cold sweat was returning, but Red was already wearing his jacket.

… So he did the only thing he could think of.

‘

Red snatched up Sans’ jacket from his backpack and draped it over himself like a blanket.

The scent of Sans had been washed away, but the weight and familiarity of it was comforting. The ends of the sleeves were worn, like Sans picked at them. Maybe he did.

There was a stain on the front, near the pockets. It looked like ketchup.

“... red?”

Said skeleton was jolted out of his thoughts, panicking when he saw it was Sans, flinging the blue jacket off of him like it was on fire and nearly screaming.

“h-here!! i, uh, i washed it!”

… Silence.

Sans looked over Red.

Red felt his face heat up.

“...” Sans didn't say anything. He only picked his jacket up and shucked it on.

“okay.” he finally said. “get your work out.”

Slowly, Red deflated.

Sans… wasn’t going to say anything?

Not even to make a joke about how dumb Red had acted?

Red should be _relieved,_ but it was weird. He’d gotten used to Sans poking and teasing at him. Used to Sans leaning over his shoulder, being obnoxious.

Why had he changed?

Had the fight… Had what Red said really affected him that much?

Quitely, Red got out his work and started on it.

//

Sans thought over what Alphys said.

She was wrong (obviously), Sans was doing nothing wrong, but she had pointed out a few things that confused Sans.

Why _did_ he care so much?

It was unlike him.

When had Red gone from ‘the cheater’ to _Red?_

Why did Sans give him his jacket? Why did he like it when Red blushed? Why did he compulsively smell Red’s sleeve all weekend, hoping for even a trace of the small skeleton’s natural scent to be left over?

Why did he give a single fuck that the folder Mr. Cooper had given him was Red’s business? It was his business too, he was tutoring him.

When Sans woke up from a dream at three am on Sunday, it him like a truck.

_Laughter, a small, bony hand clutched tightly in his own phalanges. A sharp grin and a cute red blush. Bright eye lights, a warm body next to his own._

He had dreamed of Red. And him.

Nothing explicit, but they’d been together. And Sans had just _known,_ in that way that you know in dreams, that they were _together_ together.

And it didn’t curl his gut. Didn’t make his SOUL scream.

Even as he sat awake, he didn’t hate it. 

Sans had sputtered. The brain he didn’t have nearly blanked.

_(what did i just - )_

_(i did not just - )_

Except he _did_ . Sans had totally just dreamed that he and Red were in a relationship. And he’d _liked_ it. Even now, his SOUL was calling out plaintively to return to the dream.

For a few hours, though, he had hated that he _didn't_ hate it. Hated that he could ever _consider_ Red - mean, sharp _Red_ \- as anything close to _cute._

But it was true. Red had been cute. He couldn't even deny it in his waking hours, when he felt a real, tangible ache in his rib cage at the loss of that tiny hand. He wanted it. He wanted it a _surprising_ amount. Wanted Red to look at him and curse at him and hit him, even, with those tiny little kitten slaps just as long as Red's attention was on _him_ and -

_\- oh god, he realized that he had wanted Red's attention for awhile._

_(shit, what the fuck, i couldn’t even go a fucking month without getting a stupid crush - )_

Oh. Delta.

_(kill me now_ . _)_

That’s what it was, right? A crush.

Not ideal, but workable.

Manageable.

_(i just have to kill it dead.)_

How to do this?

Sans… did not know.

He knew couldn’t stop _now_ , just because he happened to think this wanna-be thug kid was kind of cute - 

_(stop. calling. him. cute.)_

But it had hit him again.

His problem was that he cared too much.

So he needed to stop. He needed to be cold, to be calm. He needed to kill whatever feelings were manifesting before they started to cause problems, because as much as Sans had made Red blush, he knew that there was no way the smaller skeleton harbored similar feelings.

Briefly, Sans thought about asking Alphys for help, but he’d basically told her to keep her mouth shut or he’d stop being friends with her.

He really was the worst.

But he had to stick to the plan, he had to. Otherwise all of this would have been for _nothing,_ he’d have done all this for _nothing._

… That was what Sans told himself was going to happen.

But when Monday came around, it was all Sans could do to not turn into a blueberry.

Because in the library was Red - wearing that jacket Sans had requested he return on Monday, today.

He was wearing it, all huddled up, and he was so fucking _cute -_

Shit.

All of the feelings he’d been denying up until now were hitting him full force. The reason he’d always felt weird when Red was confused, or looked at him all upset - it was because Red was _cute._

Sans hated it.

Fuck!

And then Red froze up, threw the jacket. He looked _afraid._

Sans hated that, too.

He wanted to apologize, again, for Friday.

He was angry, and sleepless, and _delta dammit,_ he was _jealous._

Great of his shitty brain to help him realize that _now._

Instead of apologizing, Sans looked down at Red.

...He was wearing new clothes. A pretty sweater under a new jacket and a skirt.

_Fuck._

Red wasn’t making this easy.

He told Red to get out his work. Red did so quietly, looking tense and confused. Sans tried to keep himself cool during the two hours, explaining things but not lingering, being swift.

Halfway through the session, the telltale sound of rain on the roof clued Sans into the weather.

He nearly groaned - the one day he couldn’t teleport. He’d had shitty appetite all weekend, and he’d skipped lunch, which meant he didn’t have enough magic to teleport today.

Sans didn’t think anything of the normally twenty minute walk.

But it was going to be _hell_ in the rain.

He heard Red let out a soft curse - he knew that the shorter usually walked home, too.

Fuck. That meant he was going to have to be around Red for even longer.

“let’s, uh, wrap up this session early, huh?” Sans muttered, not looking at Red.

“Hm?” Red asked. He was probably confused. He probably looked adorable.

“i wanna get home before the rain gets bad. so, uh, let’s wrap it up. i won’t mention it in the report.”

Slowly, almost cautiously, he heard Red start to shuffle papers around. Sans still didn’t look at him, just gathered his own things.

They walked the same path to the outside. Sans watched Red pull his hood up. Sans did the same.

“... bye…” Sans muttered, under his breath, as he turned the opposite direction, ready to walk home, miserable.

“hmph.” Red responded.

Sans stopped cold in his tracks…

_(was that a - )_

“did you just ‘hmph’ me?” Sans asked, feeling vaguely offended.

“oh, yer talkin’ ta me now?” Red snarked.

Red fucking _snarked_ him!

“what’s that supposed to mean?!” Sans shot back.

As cute as Red was, he sure got on Sans nerves… Sans was starting to doubt that he really had a crush on the small skeleton.

“i dunno, ya were real rude on friday, an’ now ya ain’t even talkin’ ta me, but i guess that’s okay ‘cause we’re not _friends_.”

_(what?)_

_(where is this coming from?)_   
  


“we’re not. you said it yourself, huh, i’m not the only one who said things on friday!” Sans replied.

“ya fucked up my jacket.”

“it was already fucked up!”

“ya made me fall down.”

“it’s not my fault you’re a shrimp!”

“so we’re callin’ names now, huh? blue asshole!”

Sans gasped. It might have been funny if he wasn’t feeling so offended.

“who’s mean now, huh???” Sans told the other, having nothing better to say.

“oh, yeah, well yer just a bully, sans. a big fat bully.” Red told him smugly.

“and you’re a cry baby! a tiny, whiny cry baby!”

Red’s face puckered up, getting all red. He stomped his little foot and turned around.

“i don’t gotta listen ta this.”

“then don’t, huh!” Sans called out to Red’s retreating figure. He was still stomping his tiny feet.

The rain had started coming down harder now, and the roads were starting to fill up with water. Not enough to flood, but enough to form puddles.

Enough for Red’s old, beaten up shoe (he hadn’t replaced those…) to slip on the curb. Sans watched in mild horror as Red tried to catch himself, but failed.

He fell.

He hit the back of his skull directly on the curb.

… Red stayed down.

Sans counted to ten before he really felt the panic set in.

“red??” he called out, hoping for a reply.

Nothing.

Just more rain.

Sans rushed over, sliding in on his knees as he waved a hand in front of Red’s face.

“wake up, red!” he called, shaking the smaller’s shoulders.

Fuck.

_He wasn’t waking up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technically it's still monday in my timezone so this chapter is on time >:)
> 
> sorry i haven't been replying to comments consistently! i've been ridiculously busy with classes this semester so far already ^^ i do read and appreciate them, though
> 
> it just takes me awhile to answer them :D
> 
> that being said, feel free to leave a comment! i'm going through them tonight so you're pretty much guaranteed an answer soon lol
> 
> after that i'm sleepin tho so


	14. sins of the merciful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sans doesn't quite ask the right questions, but he gets the answers, anyways

When Red came to, his head fucking _hurt._ He swiftly curled into a fetal position on his side, scared he might start puking up magic from the terrible pounding in his skull. That is, if he had any left to spew. The circulating magic in his body was feeling pretty fucking tired from trying to figure out where the hell it needed to go and do its healing thing.

But Red’s magic has always been pretty shit at healing his body.

Fuuuck… it’s been awhile since Red’s felt this bad. For the past few weeks, he hasn’t been around Wing enough for the bastard to get his hands on the smaller skeleton. He must have really fucked up, then. Especially if he banged him up in the middle of the week…

… What did he do?

Red wracks his memories, but the last thing he can recall is yelling at Sans…. Ugh… stomping away…

Shit! Red slipped, a feeling of panic gripping his SOUL, and it was blank after that.

!

He must have passed out after that… ignoring the pain from the light assaulting his sensitive eye lights, Red pushed himself up and took in his surroundings. The bed he was in smelled different than his own (but not bad, kinda nice, actually…), and it was softer, too… and the covers were blue.

… This wasn’t his house….

He was in a bedroom, obviously. Of an unfamiliar house. It was a rather small room, with a decently sized bed pushed against the corner, some science posters on the wall, a single window covered with a heavy curtain… And a disorganized desk on the other side of the room with a computer monitor stationed on top, flashing its little save screen.

Where… was he?

It was just then that the door opened, shocking Red into jumping back against the generous pillow pile behind him and pulling up the plush comforter to his shoulders. 

Cautiously, none other than _Sans_ poked his head in, eye lights settling on Red instantly. He stared at the other like a deer stuck in the headlights for a good few minutes, Sans having exactly the same expression before he started to meander into the room.

“you’re…” Sans cleared his throat, “awake. that’s good.”

Red was going to respond, but his head let out a sudden throb, causing him to hiss and clutch at the back of his skull… shit…

Fuck, that hurt. And his head was kind of fuzzy. The bright lights weren’t helping.

Was this Sans’ room? His house? Why was Red here…? Red wouldn’t….

Quickly, the small skeleton peaked under the covers to see that he was _thankfully_ still fully dressed, if not a little damp from the rain erlier.

Phew.

When he looked back up, Sans was giving him a curious look. Red felt his skull flush his namesake.

That’s right… Sans would never… the giant blue asshole didn’t care about Red. He wouldn’t do something like that. He would probably be disgusted by the smaller skeleton’s scars, anyways. His bones were chipped to hell in some places, from beatings and poorly healed wounds that had lacked proper nutrients to properly stitch themselves back together.

_Great_ . Now Red felt like crying _and_ his skull felt like it was splitting open. In front of Sans. Fantastic.

As if his current situation wasn’t mortifying enough, Red actually _did_ feel himself start to tear up as he sat curled up with his knees up to his chest in Sans’ bed. The tiny skeleton wiped at his eye sockets with his sleeves and hid his face into his knees.

“... is this yer house?” He asked, sounding so small. So much smaller than Red ever _wanted_ to sound. Stars, Sans was right. Red was a little crybaby.

“uh, yeah.” Sans took a little while to respond, coming closer to the bed, dragging over the desk chair so he could sit across from Red. “you slipped… and, uh, you didn’t get up so i brought you here. i don’t know where you live, and, uh, you… didn’t have your phone on you.”

Red sniffled a little, looking away from where Sans was. He didn’t want to look at the giant blue meanie. He was crying for some reason, probably because his skull hurt, but also because what Sans had said hurt, and Red might have a concussion because his head was starting to feel really soupy.

“i dun’ got a phone.” Red mumbled to Sans.

Last semester… he’d had one. But he’d back talked Wing one too many times and the taller had taken offence. One Sunday, he’d gripped Red by the wrist, ignoring the panicked exclamation of the smaller, tore the device out of his grasp and threw it against the wall with a dark warning to stop filling his head with garbage.

Red reflexively flexed his wrist. Wing had sprained it. It didn’t hurt anymore, not really, but it sometimes aches when Red wrote too much. Maybe it had healed wrong? Who knows.

“what?” Red could hear Sans shift closer. He wasn’t aware _how_ much closer the other had gotten, though, so when he looked back to repeat himself, Red was surprised by just how little _space_ there was between Sans’ and his face.

Blushing bright red, the small skeleton scooched back and repeated himself, albeit with more stutters. “i, i dun’…. i dun’ got a phone.”

“you don’t?” Sans asked hollowly.

The red toned skeleton shook his head, agitating his wound.

“what about… emergencies?”

Red shrugged. If he got beat up by some bullies or needed a ride he usually just walked himself home. The only real emergencies he’d ever encountered were when Wing got a bit too overzealous and ended up needing to take him to the ER.

He remembers telling teachers a slew of lies about where he got his broken arm or why he couldn’t play with the other kids at recess when his ribs were bruised. Clumsy kid. Stupid kid.

Of course, back then, Red was stupid and confrontational and it’d resulted in quite a few beatings that he might have been just a little deserving of…

Before Red even knew what was happening, Sans was making a distressed noise.

Something warm and wet dripped from Red’s cheekbones. Oh. He was crying again.

Fuck. _Fuck!_

Why couldn’t he control himself right now?! Was it the concussion? Red’s never gotten like this before unless he was in the middle of a panic attack!

But Sans…. Sans has seen him have a panic attack, hasn’t he? And he wasn’t angry or disgusted… he… h-he gave Red his jacket….

A movement out of the corner of Red’s vision was too sudden, casting a shadow over him, and the small skeleton _squealed_ , jumping away. The pain in his skull was too fresh, the tears on his face only reminding him of his weakness…

_“d-dun’ hit me! dun’!”_ Red growled. He _knew_ he sounded weak, though. Knew he looked pathetic with tears streaming down his face.

… There wasn’t any angry yelling, as expected. It took Red a hot minute to realize that was because this _wasn’t_ Wing. This was _Sans_ , and he’d just embarrassed himself, _again…_

He was too embarrassed to look at the bigger skeleton, though. He didn’t want to see if Sans was putting puzzle pieces together or if he was just going to call Red out for being a crybaby scaredy cat again.

… The clicking of teeth together. Sans didn’t seem to know what to say.

i’’m not… i wouldn’t…”

The bed next to Red dipped. He flinched again, curling in on himself and pushing up as close to the wall as he could.

“i’m not a bad guy.” Sans laughed. It didn’t sound like he found what he was saying very funny, more like he was in shock. “i… i am _not_ the bad guy here! i don’t hit people. i don’t… i don’t _hurt_ people!”

It was a few more minutes until Red calmed down, at least enough for some reason to return to him. The red toned skeleton curiously looked to where Sans was sitting. Shockingly, the taller monster wasn’t even looking at Red. He was seated on the edge of the bed, looking away. His hands cradled his skull.

He was proud to only have slightly jumped when Sans started to speak again.

“you… you did this to me!” The blue toned skeleton accused, still not looking back. “why am _i_ always the mean one?! you cheated! you probably get into tons of fights! you… _you’re_ the delinquent kid! and i… i just wanna… i just wanted to take naps after school.”

Red could have snorted at all the blatant untruths spilling from sans’ mouth, but the more he listened…. The more saddened he became. Is that what Sans thought of him? Did the other really think so little of Red as to accuse him of being violent and untrustworthy?

The tiny skeleton was far, _far_ from being a good person… but he wasn’t like _that._

As disorientated as he was, Red hadn’t even realized he’d spoken until Sans stopped rambling.

“idiot.” The word passed through his serrated teeth without his permission.

////////

“idiot.”

Sans stopped cold in his tracks when he heard what Red said.

_What?_

“ _what?_ ” He couldn’t have heard that right… Red had called Sans a lot of things before; Asshole, meanie, jerk, douche, and on the rare occasion _bastard_ , but he’d never heard that word slip from the smaller’s mouth.

It implied that Sans was _stupid,_ and Sans _knew_ that he could be very, very dumb - if the entire tutoring incident wasn’t evidence enough - but the accusation was stark and cutting coming from Red.

“yer an idiot.” Red repeated, sounding less sure of himself. “an’ a liar, too. i ain’t done even half the shit yer accusin’ me of.”

Dumbfounded, Sans could hardly respond. “ _yeah?_ ”

“y-yeah….” Red shuffled closer, moving his small body to sit besides Sans. He wasn’t looking at the blue skeleton, instead focusing on the ground in front of him. He looked and sounded nervous. “how do ya… how do ya expect me ta get inta fights when i got one dumb hp?! th’ worst i ever did was sleep in math ‘n backtalk a few teachers! and i ain’t no cheater, either, ‘kay??”

_(...)_

Sans… was having a hard time processing this information. The obvious conclusion to draw was that Red was lying - it was the _only_ conclusion. How else was Sans supposed to accept Red’s words?

_(i can’t… he)_

_(if he’s not a cheater, then what does that make me?)_

The answer came to Sans faster than he would have liked.

Asshole, meanie, jerk, douche, bastard. _Idiot_.

_(holy shit)_

_(i_ am _the bad guy)_

And all it took was Red, the guy he had a crush on, the guy he’d been purposefully torturing for the past month, the tiny little skeleton who would come into tutoring with bruises on his face and holes in his clothes to be _knocked out_ and then _cry_ on his bed.

And Alphys?!

“... but mr. cooper,” Sans started, feeling like he was grasping for straws. He couldn’t be _wrong_. He’d spent all this time - !

Red huffed. The small monster still wasn’t looking at him, but Sans was watching every expression. He was doing that cute little pout again.

“he’s a liar, too. he’s had it out fer me since i fell asleep in ‘is class last semester.”

Suddenly, the contents of Red’s ‘disciplinary folder’ seem more enticing than ever. If Sans looked through each citation, what would he find? Instances of a delinquent student, or of a tired junior just trying to get through the day?

It’s not like Sans hasn’t fallen asleep in class before.

As the tall monster was trying to wrap his thoughts into something semi-coherent, the door to his room opened without warning. Although Sans knew in _theory_ he wasn’t doing anything wrong in that _moment_ , he still stood hurriedly from his bed, panicked.

Instead of his mom, like he expected to burst through the door and scold him about leaving his socks on the floor, or Papyrus coming in to ask for help with homework, it was his dad. Dings.

“Sans? I wanted to make sure you got home alright, your mother isn’t getting home until late, she’s taking Papyrus to a ball gam” The tall skinny skeleton monster took in the fact that Sans was blue faced, trying to hide the smaller skeleton beside him, who was still seated on his _bed_.

“Mmmmm” He continued in shock, looking between the two teenagers. His sockets were blinking rapidly as he took in the sight before him, likely noting Red’s skirt and the ruffled sheets of the bed.

“Apologies.” Sans’ dad said suddenly. “I didn’t realize you had a… guest, Sans. I’ll.. check in later.”

“wait!” Sans called, lurching after the quickly closing door. “it’s not what you think!” He did _not_ want his dad to think that he was - that he and Red were - even just the _thought_ was sending more and more magic to Sans’ cheekbones.

“It’s alright,” Dings assured, his own purple blush staining his cheekbones. “At your age, this is natural, son. Due be sure not to be, ah, too loud, though.”

“he’s… he slipped and fell down, dad.” Sans explained, embarrassed. “i don’t know where he lives so i took him here.”

“Oh.” Dings peaked back into the room, where Red was still sitting on the bed, his little face buried in his knees. They were once again pulled up to his rib cage. “That makes a bit more sense. Is he hurt?”

“He’s got a small crack on the back of his skull. Is that bad?” Sans himself hasn’t been on the receiving end of a lot of pain in his life. Besides the occasional scrape or that one time, he’s had a perfectly golden childhood. He doesn’ know if Red’s crack will pass like his bruises or if it’s something he should have taken him to the emergency room for.

Shit. Should he have taken him to the emergency room?

“It depends…” Dings steps into the room, past Sans. He moves towards Red, and Sans feels something protective flare up in his rib cage. He can’t stop his dad, though, not when he’s on a mission.

Predictably, Red clammed up when Dings came near and started scooting back again, more liquid falling from his sockets.

“I am very sorry,” Dings said sincerely, reaching for the small skeleton, “but my son has informed me that you may be injured, and I should like to check for myself and make sure you are not in a dangerous situation.”

Sans stood by anxiously twiddling his thumbs as Red gradually calmed enough for Dings to get a decent look at the back of his skull. First, though, he checked the dilation of Red’s eye lights and had him follow the tip of his finger as he dragged it back and forth.

“Oh dear.” The doctor tsked, lightly prodding at the well-bruised crack. Sans flinched nearly as hard as Red. Dings pulled his hand away quickly. “How is your memory? Do you know today’s date?”

Red rattled off the correct answer, which was a significant relief to Sans. Besides the pain, the tiny skeleton seems to be passing all the tests well enough.

“After a quick examination, I believe you are fine for the most part.” Dings announced, “However, I would like to perform a quick healing on your skull to get rid of the damage. Are you alright with this?”

“h-healing?” Red squeaked curiously.

Sans didn’t blame him - healing wasn’t exactly a common skill among magic-users, however, Dings had always possessed a small affinity for it. It made Papyrus’ activeness slightly more bearable, since the young monster was always getting himself injured accidentally.

“Correct. Are you uncomfortable with this?”

Red fiddled around with the comforter on the bed before shaking his head. “i-it’s alright.”

Swiftly, Dings coaxed some green magic to his phalanges and passed them lightly over Red’s wound. It was a matter of moments until only slight bruising was left. Red even felt confident enough, apparently, to reach back and prod at it himself.

“huh.” He looked up at Sans’ dad with something akin to _vulnerability_ on his face. “thanks, m-mr. gaster.”

“Well it seems you know me.” Chuckling, the doctor stepped back and allowed Red to collect himself. “And you are? Aside from my son’s mysterious guest.”

The small skeleton’s expression shifted to one of embarrassment, not too far off from the one Sans was making at the same time.

“red.” His voice was quiet, almost ashamed. “red f-fellster.”

Dings blinked in shock at the tiny monster. “Oh. That’s. I was… unaware that Wing had a son other than Edge.”

“my half brother.” Red admitted shyly.

“Well then.” Dings cleared his throat, “It’s nice to meet you. Wing and I have not been… close… for many years, but it is rather nice to be kept up to date… ah… will you be… staying for dinner?”

“i’ll drive him home.” Sans blurted. Red turned his little face with his puppy dog eyes to Sans, who nearly crumbled under their cuteness, but he continued. “it’s getting late and he doesn’t have a phone to text his parents.”

Dings brushed imaginary dust from his clothing. “I see. You may use my car in that case. Have a nice evening, Red.”

“ya too.” Was nearly whispered in response.

As Sans promised, he helped Red gather his things and took him out to the driveway where Dings’ car was parked. Awkwardly, Red climbed into the passenger seat.

… The entire ride was quiet. Sans didn’t really know what to say. He’d been cut off before he could apologize or ask more questions… it didn’t seem like the right time to do any of that, now. Red gave directions as Sans drove, the only communication.

Even in the growing darkness, though, Sans didn’t expect to be guided to such a large house. _Wow._ It could qualify as a mansion. Fitting for the Royal Scientist.

Sans’ father was famous. The CORE was a machine that powered the entire city, and more like it were being built across the country to provide clean electricity across the country. The Gaster family had no shortage of funds.

But even so, Dings insisted that they live rather modestly, not taking more than they needed. Sans was gifted enough to have nice quality clothing, the newest technology, and the unquestionable financial support of his father, but he didn’t live in what he would consider _excess_.

Red’s house? Excessive as hell.

But again, one thought back to how Red had dressed before today - and even to the ratty shoes he still donned - reminded Sans that Red wasn’t spoiled. The kid didn’t even have a phone. How was it that Red could live like he had been, while residing in such an opulent house?

The red toned skeleton was just so full of contradictions.

Sans parked behind the car that was already in the driveway, walked Red to his door, and watched as he slipped in quietly, before turning back to get in his car.

He was surprised to see that next to his own car, in the driveway, was another one that had not been there only thirty seconds prior. When it parked and its engine was turned off, Sans saw a tall (taller than his _dad_ ) skeleton step out.

This must be… Wing Fellster. Yup. Just as intimidating as his photos online.

“... And you are?” The tall monster growled when Sans neared.

“uh… i just wanted to take red home. he hit his head, so,”

“I. Asked. Who you _are_.” 

(ok, wow, rude)

“sans. sans gaster.” The blue monster snarked right back. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Well - he was the royal scientist, but manners, still!

“ _Gaster?_ ” Wing sneered. “Let me guess. The one they assigned to tutor my ‘ _son_ ’”

What the hell was this guy’s problem?

“yeah, actually, and i’m leaving now.” Sans replied one final time before getting in his car and driving off. I didn’t escape him that Wing watched his entire departure. Even as Sans neared his own house, the feeling of those malicious eye lights watching him didn’t fade.

He had more important things to worry about, though.

Just as Sans had suspected, when he finally cracked open Red’s disciplinary folder that night, ignoring the immense guilt in his SOUL, he’d only found minor citations. The descriptions Cooper had written would have someone believe Red was some sort of anarchist, but in reality, Red was right. He’d never done more than fall asleep or be distracted in class.

Sans honestly couldn’t tell what was more objectively horrifying; the fact that Mr. Cooper had been obsessively documenting Red’s every move throughout the year, or that Sans had _facilitated_ that by continuing to do the teacher’s dirty work for him.

He couldn’t keep up the act with Red. It wasn’t right. The best option to take would be to restart with the kid, and try to be as neutral as possible. After all, there was no way he was going to keep trying to fail the kid after what he’d learned. It made him feel scummy along with the knowledge of all he’d already done to the junior.

_And_ there was no way he was going to try and romantically pursue him. Heh. Red would never want him back. Sans would just be kidding himself even more if he tried.

Before Sans went to bed, he resolved to delete the blackmail folder on his computer, which was quite useless now. In fact, it had been pretty useless all along. After all… the only thing Sans had managed to collect was various photos of a young Red looking sad.

But as Sans was going through the photos… he found something he hadn’t noticed before, in his fervor to collect information.

… 

… Two articles by the same website, dated closely together. Two different events Wing had dragged Red out to. This had to be when he was still barely a teenager…

Both pictures didn’t have very good quality shots of the tiny skeleton - he was standing just far enough from his father that he was partially cropped out in each. In the first photo, Red looked upset, but rather healthy. In the second… there was just a shadow of a bruise under one of his eye sockets. And in his little frowny grin, there was a golden tooth to replace the one that had sat there just days prior.

…

Sans flipped back and forth between the two photos.

This… meant something. But what?

If Red was being truthful, then he didn’t get into fights like Sans had assumed. But what about his injuries? Was Red being bullied, perhaps?

But those unexplained bruises dated back too far for it to be any simple high school bully…

… 

Sans kept the folder. But it wasn’t blackmail anymore. It was evidence. Of what, he was unsure, but was going to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry!!! i haven't updated in so long T-T. i got sick with the flu early this year and couldn't write, then i got busy....
> 
> i'm back now! and with possibly good news! i re-evaluated the plot line for this fic and found that i'm going to need about 3-4 extra chapters to accommodate one more plot point! so! expect around 28-29 chapters in total for this fic ;)
> 
> alsoooo... if you haven't checked out [this poll](https://www.poll-maker.com/poll2624040xe52f4C2E-75), i highly suggest you do. it's a poll to determine which fic i should write next! voting is anonymous, so go for it! :D
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like to!!


	15. sins of the merciless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT good times for red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick warning, red's part is going to have some domestic abuse triggers. if you'd like a summary of his parts, i'll put it in the end notes. sans' part should be good, though.
> 
> also a quick note is that i'm going through and am CURRENTLY changing the tense of the fic, just in case you're confused ^^ (got up to chapter 1, phew that takes longer than i thought lol)
> 
> stay safe, lovelies!

“Red!” Frisk exclaims. She rushes over to the short skeleton as soon as he enters the house, arms extended. He can't help the way he flinches and scrambles away at her quick approach.

Her expression falters for a second, but the human is quick to gather herself and step back. Red hates himself for the way she holds her hands up to her chest, unsure of what to do with them. “You were late, Red… I got worried… what happened?”

“i-it was nothin’...” He mutters. A lie.

Waking up in Sans’ room had been a shock… hearing the taller accuse him of being a delinquent and finding out he had a concussion were cherries on the cake to this whole situation.

He hadn’t gotten to finish telling Sans about Mr. Cooper. Did it matter, though? Since when did he care what Sans thought of him…? 

It must have started before this afternoon.

It wouldn’t be hurting Red so much otherwise.

But why should Sans think anything different of Red? Does he really think a cute skirt is going to change the fact that he's stupid and short and scarred to hell? Why did he… why did he think that being cute could change anything….?

“Red, honey, you’re crying…” Frisk says softly.

_Fuck._

He _is_. Red quickly wipes away his tears with his sleeve and turns away.

“a-a friend drove me home.” He lies. “i’m going t’ bed.”

Before the small red toned skeleton can make his escape, though, the sound of the front door opening echoes throughout the foyer. Both Frisk and Red turn their heads to where a _very_ irate looking Wing is slipping off his work coat.

Red stays frozen in place. His father’s eye lights are locked on his now shaking frame.

_why? he hasn’t done anything this time._

The intent alone in the tall skeleton’s heavy footsteps make them reverberate like waves of static to Red’s weak magic. He has no idea what could have put Wing in such a bad mood.

“Sweetheart,” Frisk speaks up, looking over to her husband. “How was your day?” Her question is meant to ease the tension that has overcome the space between the three of them. Red has to commend her for her bravery. He wouldn’t dare speaking up when Wing is in a mood like this.

But maybe that’s because Wing wouldn’t hesitate to remind him that bastard children shouldn’t speak unless spoken to.

… Wing ignores his wife. He keeps walking, not bothering to take his shoes off or even look at her as he made his way to where his home office was located.

Frisk doesn’t like that. She steps in front of him, causing the tall monster to stop in his tracks. Low, angry, _aggressive_ magic seeps from his bones. Red breaks out into a heavy cold sweat, his bones nearly rattling. _He hadn’t gotten like this since…._

The human doesn’t seem to feel it, though. Her own SOUL is much too strong to be affected by intent. Determination and all that.

Her eyes narrow up at her husband. “Excuse me mister, that was a very rude thing you just did.” Frisk’s arms go over her chest and her stance widens in the way that it does when she's about to argue with someone.

The _terrible_ , _horrible_ magic spikes again, and for a moment Red is afraid, truly _afraid_ that Wing is going to strike out at Frisk ~~(~~ _ ~~not frisk, not frisk, not her)~~ _. So afraid that he stumbles forward unintentionally. Whether to pull Wing away or take the blow, he isn’t sure, but it doesn’t matter since his feet are too frozen to the ground for him to do anything more than trip over himself.

“Red!”

Hot embarrassment fills Red’s body as he lay on the ground.

_Useless._

_Stupid._

He can’t even stop his stupid fucking dad from hurting the only person who’d ever given a fuck about him - 

Red looks up from his place on the ground only to see Frisk’s face, full of worry, with Wing’s hand on her shoulder. His face is a mask of calm despite the borderline _murderous_ magic he's expelling. H-He… he hadn’t hurt her.

_of course._

Red feels ten times dumber. 

Wing doesn’t hit Frisk. He doesn’t hit Edge.

They're his _real_ family.

Red is _not_. That's why Wing hits him, why Wing hates him.

“He’ll be fine, dear.” Wing tells Frisk oily. He puts on a false smile. “It was only a small trip.”

Frisk pulls her shoulder free from Wing with an indignant look. “He's your son, Wing!” She walks over to help Red, who is still frozen, off of the floor. While she fusses over the tiny skeleton, straightening his clothes and putting his cheek bones, his own gaze is fixed on Wing.

The taller stares with an uncomfortable intensity at his bastard son. Red matches it only because he doesn’t want to know what will happen if he looks away.

“Of course, dear. I’m sorry.” Wing placates. While Frisk is turned away, Red can see a brief _crack_ in his facade. His teeth pull into a sneer at the corner, quickly replaced by that same placid mask. “I’ve had a rather long day, I’m not feeling quite myself.”

“Well,” Frisk sighs, finally leaving Red. Her face is tired, conflicted. “I can’t fault you for that.” She hesitantly leaves Red once she deems him to be okay and travels back to her husband to plant a small kiss on his cheek bone, having to get on her tiptoes. Red looks away. Wing’s stare breaks only so he can look at Frisk and return the show of affection.

“You’ve always been so understanding.”

Frisk hums, "I try." Red can tell that she wants it to sound placid, peaceful, like she always is with Wing. But there's still a hint of exasperation, the barest shadow of anger. Wing doesn't comment on it, though.

It’s painful for Red to see Wing be so nice. It’s painful for him to see Frisk giving Wing any affection at all. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s a demon.

“Will you go attend to Edge? I have something to talk with Red about in my study.”

_Here_ is where Frisk’s mask of devotion falters. She looks back and forth from a hunched over Red and back to her husband, still the ever present picture of calmness. It takes a few moments for the hesitance to pass, but she eventually elects to leave the two skeletons alone.

“Okay…”

And just like that, Red’s last line of defense has disappeared. He’s pathetic for having to rely on Frisk. He’s spent years without her, but for some reason it feels like facing Wing without her is an impossible task.

Wing turns and continues on to his study. Red trudges behind him.

Wing stands at the door of his office and allows Red to enter first before closing the door behind them. His perfect mask doesn’t change.

It never does, except for rare moments when the skeleton loses himself.

“Something funny happened today.” Wing tells his son idly, not bothering to look at the shorter. “When I drove to _my_ house, there was an unfamiliar car in _my_ driveway…”

Red’s marrow went cold in his bones.

“th-that, j-just, i, i…” Red stuttered, desperately wanting to explain himself. Wing silenced him with a look.

“Imagine _my_ surprise, when it turns out that not _only_ had the idiot parked in _my_ place, but he was also the son of _my_ greatest enemy.” Wing arched a brow bone at Red. “Care to explain?”

“h-he drove me home…” Red chokes out, “i-i hit my head…”

Wing chuckles dangerously. 

Red shuts up.

“Oh,” Red’s father laughs again like Red has just told him the funniest joke in the world, “Oh, sorry, but I thought you just told me that you invited a _delta damned_ _GASTER!”_ Wing’s explosive rage finally boils over as he shouts, “TO MY HOME!” He slams his hands down on his desk.

“BECAUSE YOU HIT YOUR LITTLE HEAD. DID YOU DO THAT?”

“i...i…” Red can feel himself shutting down. He doesn’t know what to say - he knows that no matter what he _does_ say, nothing can calm Wing down right now.

“DID YOUR FALL DAMAGE YOUR THICK SKULL?” Wing sweeps forward to grab Red by the front of his sweater and bring him up. He shakes Red a little, and the small skeleton lets out a wet gasp as tears roll down his cheek bones. His smaller hands come up to grip at Wing’s larger ones, afraid that the taller might try and choke him.

“s-s-s-s-s-sorry…”

Wing drops Red onto his coccyx - undoubtedly leaving another bruise. He stands above his son with a look of disappointment. The eerie calm from earlier washes over the scientist once again.

“Look at you.” As Red sits on the ground, pulling his legs to his chest to shield himself, Wing walks in a slow circle around him. “Pathetic…” Something seems to dawn on Wing as he stops in front of Red. “Where did you get these clothes?”

Hot shame fills Red. He doesn’t answer his father. His father doesn’t want an answer. He can hardly stop himself from wailing - he _knew_ these clothes were a bad idea. He knew it, he _knew it_.

“You look like a slut.” Red chokes on a half-angry half-scared sob. “Is _that_ why the Gaster boy was taking you home?”

Red wants to deny it, wants to shout at his father the truth, but that would only make things worse.

“I see…” Another false set of chuckles leave Wing. “Even after all I did for you to erase your actions those years ago, you go and open your legs again. Typical. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything different from your mother’s son.”

Hot rage fills Red at that comment - almost hot enough to overcome his cold, cold fear. He wipes the tears from his eye sockets and sits a little straighter. _He doesn’t deserve to talk about Red’s mom, not after what he did -_

“Did he offer you anything?”

The coldness splashes right back down on Red. Wing must take the expression on his son’s face to mean something other than what it does.

“He _didn’t_ ? Oh, don’t tell me you _like_ him…” Wing snickers, “What did he tell you? Is he like the other one? What was his name…? Oh, I don’t have time for flaming bastards like that kid. Did he tell you you’re pretty?” Wing teases.

Another thought crosses Wing’s mind, the conclusion Red had hoped he _wouldn’t_ draw. But it’s too late.

“ _Did you tell him?_ ” Wing demands, suddenly serious. 

Red lifts his face to tell his father that _no, no he didn’t_ when there comes a sharp kick to his ribs. Red keels over and gasps for breath as blinding pain flashes through his entire body. His little rib cage heaves in a useless effort to bring in air.

“ _ANSWER ME!”_

When Red is finally able to breath again, he lets out a scream.

“ _no! no!”_ He cries, _“i didn’, i didn’ say nothin’!”_

Wing pants from where he’s standing and adjusts his clothing, having become disheveled during his little tantrum. He breathes deeply for a few moments before speaking again.

“Good.” is all he says for a bit.

Red thinks it’s over until Wing kicks him again. And again. And again and again and again and _again_ _and aga_

“Let this be a warning, son.” Gaster tells Red calmly. “I don’t need you tattling to your little friends again. Oh, What is that saying?”

Wing pauses and places his foot on Red’s rib cage lightly. Red lets out a terrified sob. “Oh, right.”

The tall monster slowly increases the pressure on Red’s rib cage until the smaller feels like he’s about to _snap_.

“Snitches get stitches. Rather crude, but fitting.” He sings sadistically.

Red blacks out.

//

“I had no idea you knew Wing’s son.” Gaster says idly from his place at the dinner table.

“Wing has a son?” Sans’ mom, Chara, asks incredulously. She snorts, “Stars help whatever messed up SOUL that man created.”

Sans feels a burst of protectiveness in his rib cage for Red. Just because his father happened to be a huge dick didn’t mean that _Red_ was screwed up… In all their time together, Sans has only seen Red be snarky at worst.

… And… even then… It was usually Sans who set him off…

_(stars i’m an ass)_

“W-WHO IS WING?” Papyrus inquires innocently. He blinks up at Chara with wide sockets. There’s sauce on his chin.

Their mom sighs and wipes up the smudge with her own napkin.

“He was a friend of your father and mine back in the day.” She explained, “they worked together on the CORE.”

_That_ grabs Sans’ attention. “you had help with the core?”

Dings Gaster looks sheepish as he pushes around the food on his plate with his fork. “Ah, well, yes… Wing left the project after he was offered the position of royal scientist, though, I finished it on my own.” The tall monster clears his throat, “I was a bit bitter with him at the time, I admit, so I patented it under my name…”

“‘cause he left?” Sans asks. 

All this new knowledge is… interesting to say the least. How come he didn’t know any of this before? He hadn’t even known that his dad _knew_ Wing, but apparently they’d been close enough friends to have collaborated with each other on Dings’ biggest project, not to mention that apparently Sans’ _mom_ had known Wing as well.

“No, because Wing became the royal scientist.” Chara answers for Dings - who has gone mostly silent. She sounds curt as she talks about the past and her expression is heavily guarded. “The two idiots were in a competition for the title. Wing’s paper on some physics thing won him the attention of whoever decides that sort of thing, and that was the end of it.”

“... And that was the end of it.” Dings sighs. His tone very much sounds like that wasn’t the end of it _at all_. “Your mother and I got together shortly after… I think that may have been what truly set him off.”

“Couldn’t have bothered him too much if he went and had a kid with someone.”

Papyrus is silent as he listens to the adults talk, feeling bored. He didn’t really care about any drama from two decades ago. As soon as he cleared his plate, he excused himself from the table. Chara lets him go after she wipes the sauce yet again from his face and pats him on the head.

Sans, on the other hand, listens intently.

“You see, that’s where I don’t understand a few things.” Dings replies. They’ve all but forgotten Sans’ presence as they speak. “His first son - Red - is around Sans’ age, but I heard that Wing got married a few years ago to Frisk Earnst - now Frisk Fellster, I suppose. They had a child together a few years ago, too.”

Chara’s face _drops_ as she takes in this new information. “Frisk _Earnst._ The politician? Frisk’s at _least_ over a decade younger than him!”

“Right, so I’m wondering who Red’s mother is. I didn’t take Wing as the type for casual relationships, but I doubt he was having relations with Frisk over seventeen years ago.” Gaster responds. His appetite seems to have picked up as the attention shifted from his and Wing’s collaboration on the CORE, and she shoves food into his mouth between conversing with his wife.

“He _better_ have not been with Frisk back then. Stars, that man has never been right in the head, but it’s a little far for even him. His poor children…” Chara herself looks a little angry as she turns back to her own dinner.

“w-what do you mean?” Sans speaks up. His parents turn to him, seemingly surprised that he hadn’t finished his food and excused himself like Papyrus. “like, not right in the head?”

… 

“Wing is a bitter, bitter man.” Chara says after a while. “He’s very focused on material wealth and he doesn’t like to lose, ever. There was a time…” She closes her eyes and sighs heavily. “A time where we dated, but I left him for your father after one too many incidents with his temper.”

_Sans’ mom dated Wing Fellster?_

“I do believe that’s enough about Wing for today. I hope your friend feels better, Sans.” Dings concludes.

From there, there is no more conversation at the dinner table that night.

Sans lays awake in bed thinking about this new information. He can’t believe his father has never told him that Wing worked on the CORE with him. In all of his stories, the other monster had never come up. He can’t believe that his mom _dated_ that guy.

And he can’t stop thinking about what Chara had said about Wing’s temper.

It all sat very, very wrong with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED'S POV
> 
> he comes home to frisk, who is worried about him. they talk before wing enters. red can tell he is upset, wing's cold demeanor sparks a minor argument between wing and frisk. red panics, thinking wing will hurt frisk, and trips. frisk defends red when wing does nothing to help. wing suggests that frisk should find edge and take care of him, then brings red into his office. after that, wing yells at red for letting sans onto his property, calls him some derogatory language for wearing a skirt, and alludes that red is sleeping with sans or otherwise having inappropriate relations. he brings up someone from red's past, then hits him and kicks him until red blacks out.
> 
> _____
> 
> sorry this took so long to get out ;_;
> 
> if you didn't know, i release this fic as the same time as my other - Small Town Skeleton and a Hunter - so i had this chapter written for like a month, but i had serious writer's block for STSaaH. so! long awaited chapter, hope you enjoyed it! :D
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like!!
> 
> here's the [poll](https://www.poll-maker.com/poll2624040xe52f4C2E-75) if you haven't voted


	16. sins of the repentant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> red is angry and sans is sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before you read ~
> 
> i made some minor changes to sans' pov from chapters 12 & 13
> 
> also red's pov contains the aftermaths of physical abuse, so if that ain't your jam, skip that and read sans' part then head to the end notes for a little summary !

Red’s ribs hurt.

_ Delta _ his ribs hurt. His face hurts, too. And his coccyx and  _ fuck _ his ribs  _ hurt! _

It’s the unbearable sort of pain, too. The kind that doesn’t go away or lessen after a few seconds. It’s the type that constantly pulls at the edges of his mind, flashing stars behind his eyelids. It’s the kind that makes every breath feel like a new torture and every movement like a punishment.

But this  _ is _ his punishment. He was stupid, stupid, stupid for ever thinking of letting Sans drive him home. Now, he has to suffer. Wing is an insufferable asshole, yes, but Red  _ knows _ how to avoid getting hit,  _ knows _ how to keep things calm - and yet, he still made the worst mistake of his life.

And now he has to pay.

_ i deserve this _ , he tells himself unsteadily,  _ i deserve this _

It feels wrong; the words feel bitter and poisonous on his tongue, but he chants the phrase until he has enough strength to pull himself from his bed.

Surprisingly, he hasn’t overslept. He’s woken a little early, if anything.

Not early enough for Wing or Frisk and Edge to be home, but early enough to take a decent shower and get himself fixed up before he has to run out to the bus stop.

Red’s face  _ burns _ when he blinks, when he moves his mouth too much. It’s to the point where he’s afraid to see what it will look like in the mirror - will there be a large bruise this time? A few scrapes? 

When the tiny skeleton is finally able to shuffle into his bathroom and flick the light switch, his SOUL stands still in his rib cage.

_ It’s bad. _

It’s worse than ever before, except for when Wing knocked Red’s tooth out. That one slap to his face from yesterday - that one hit, it left a crack spiraling from the bottom of Red’s eye socket to his nasal ridge and down to the top of his mouth.

Dark, sticky marrow is dried onto his face, coating the bruising that follows the lines. New marrow oozes from particularly wide parts of the crack and Red - Red - Red can’t  _ think _ .

It’s bad, it’s bad, it’s  _ so so so  _ bad.

Unconsciously, Red starts crying. The fresh tears irritate the wound, causing it to sting worse. Red knows what he needs to do. He needs to clean the wound, he needs to slap a bandaid on it, needs to hide it.

He can’t let people  _ know _ . Wing - Wing had already knocked him out last night for even  _ thinking _ that Red had told on him, he couldn’t - he couldn’t let anybody  _ actually _ find out… he…

Slowly, Red lifts the hem of his shirt up. If his  _ face _ looks like this, he can’t imagine what his  _ ribs _ will look like.

… As expected, it’s ugly.  _ He’s _ ugly. They’re all bruised up with ugly maroon, bone chafed to the point of drawing marrow, and there’s fractures that span across multiple ribs, in the shape of a foot. Probably from when Wing had stepped on him.

More painful tears fall from Red’s eye sockets. He can’t stop them. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

For a few minutes, Red stands in front of the mirror, crying painfully and feeling sorry for himself.

_ why? why me? _

His chest aches, more than just the pain of what his father had done to him. It aches in loss, he wishes his mom was here. Wing never did this when she was still alive, never hit him, never kicked him.

He misses her. He  _ misses _ his mom. If she hadn’t left - if she hadn’t gone and died - if she had cared enough to stay alive - none of this would have happened.

But it isn’t his mom’s fault, he knows. It’s Wing’s fault. He could have saved her, but he didn’t.

And now Red is all alone.

Frisk’s face momentarily flashes across Red’s vision, the face she’d made when she’d left yesterday up the stairs, to go to Edge. To go to Edge, her  _ real _ son, while Wing hurt Red.

And just like that, the longing turns to a swift anger.

_ Fuck Wing. _

_ Fuck Frisk. _

_ Fuck everything. _

Red doesn’t need them. Doesn’t need Frisk to protect him - she’s been doing  _ such _ a great job, after all.  _ She _ left him. She  _ chose _ to leave him.

Red stumbles out of the bathroom, into his closet. On the hangers were all of his new clothes.

Again, a flash of memory comes over Red.

_ Slut _ .

He tears the clothes off their hangers and shoves them into the bag he’s thankfully kept. He throws them all in haphazardly, all of them. He marches, ignoring his pain, to Wing and Frisk’s room, and leaves the bag in front of the door.

There. Red doesn’t need any of her gifts. They don’t mean anything.

By the time Red is done throwing a fit, he no longer has time to shower before school. He thinks briefly of skipping, but then Mr. Cooper comes to mind. Red can’t miss tutoring, can’t miss class. So he resigns himself to simply cleaning off his face this morning. He’ll take care of his ribs when he gets home.

But when he tries to splash water over his face, it hurts, it hurts  _ so _ bad that he can’t bring himself to continue.

Anybody can tell, though, just by looking at him that something’s happened. But he can’t let them know. Wing would  _ kill _ him.

Red digs in the back of his closet for a few moments before he finds an old beanie he used to wear back in middle school. He slips it over his skull after he gets dressed in his old, ratty clothes, and then layers the hood of his new hoodie - the only article of clothing from his shopping trip that he’d kept - over it. He pulls the strings tight to hide his face and keeps his eye lights pointed downward.

Here. This is how he’ll hide.

Just like he used to, just like he did before he started this whole tutoring thing, before he’d met Sans. Before Frisk.

Another painful ache throbs in his rib cage.

He should have known that they couldn’t fix someone like him. Couldn’t help a bastard like himself.

Wing always wins, and Red was a fool to think otherwise. But he’s smarter now. He won’t ever forget it.

// 

Sans wakes up surprisingly early.

Normally, he wakes just in time to shower and teleport to his first period, but today is different. Maybe it’s because his erratic sleeping schedule hadn’t gotten any better. He woke a few times throughout the night, then one last time two hours ago. Too early to even  _ think _ of getting ready for school, but too late to reasonably fall back asleep.

As much as he finds Red a pleasant topic to think about, he knows he’ll go crazy if he tortures himself with thoughts of  _ what-if _ and even rarer, with the thoughts he barely ever allows to properly cross his mind, the ones where Red is laughing and smiling next to him, with him.

It’s still dark outside,  _ stars _ , Sans shouldn’t even be thinking about  _ thinking about _ the tiny skeleton. He should be trying to get as much rest as possible before he had to attend another SOUL-crushing day of school.

… But he can’t.

Sans groans and flings his arm out, waving it in the direction of his nightstand so he can grab up his phone. He clicks it on and hisses when the brightness proves to be too much for his eye lights so early in the morning.

“ugh.” He groans again. After waiting a few moments to allow his eye lights to adjust, he scrolls through a few apps, checking his texts first.

His gaze catches on the first name that pops up.

_ Alphys. _

His phalanges twitch.

He should probably apologize. That’s what a good friend would do, right?

The little green dot by her contact indicates she’s online. Sans huffs out a tiny laugh. Shouldn’t expect anything less of Alphys. Sans honestly doesn’t know how she manages to stay upright throughout the day with how little sleep she gets.

He spends a couple moments deliberating on what to open the conversation with, but settles for a neutral  _ hey. _

His message is marked as seen nearly seconds later, and little dots appear in a bubble to show that she’s typing back.

Then they disappear.

Sans’ SOUL drops.

The dots appear again, and Sans lets out a heavy sigh of relief. The relief doesn’t stay for long, because Alphys’ response is an echo of Sans’. She’s only sent back another simple  _ hey. _

What does he say now?!

Luckily he doesn’t have to say anything more. A few more dots pop up on Alphys’ side. Sans waits patiently for a whole two minutes for her to finish typing.

When the words finally pop up, Sans is quick to respond.

**Alphys**

_ Can I call? _

Sans’ thumbs tremble as he types out his response.

**Sans**

_ yeh _

Not even a minute later, Sans nearly dropped his phone as it started ringing,  _ loudly _ . In a bout of panic, Sans jammed the volume button, overshooting the ‘down’ option and filling the silence of early morning with a loud loud  _ loud _ dial tone.

Sans quickly pushes the ‘accept call’ option while reaching for headphones to shove into the little jack at the bottom of his phone - and sighs in relief when the silence is restored. He shakily slips the headphones over his skull and breaths out a sigh of relief.

“hey.” He says, like an idiot.

_ (damnit, that’s the same thing you texted,  _ moron -  _ ) _

_ “.... H-Hey….” _ Well, at least he knows Alphys will never judge him for being a socially awkward dumbass.

“i….” Sans chokes. He needs to apologize,  _ wants _ to apologize. He’s long since realized he had been a real ass towards a bunch of people lately.

He wants to blame it on stress, wants to pass off the blame so he doesn’t have to confront that little ( _ big _ ) selfish part of himself and admit that he really hadn’t been as good as he claimed to be. Hadn’t been as  _ nice _ as he had claimed to be.

“... i’m sorry.” Sans finally says, if only to fill the silence.

_ “Y-Yeah, I f-f-figured.”  _ Alphys replies.  _ “I-I didn’t think you would, uh, m-message me if y-you were still angry…” _

_ Stars _ , he’s a real jerk. Sans cringes and reflexively rubs at the back of his cervical vertebrae. “probably not,” he admits, “but i really am sorry - i - i shouldn’t have been such a fucking jerk about the whole tutoring thing. i’m an idiot.”

Sans hears shifting on the other end of the line and thinks for a moment that Alphys might be angry, but a small giggle rings out and reassures him that that’s not the case. _ “Y-You can be, S-Sans Gaster, but, um, well, I c-can be one too sometimes… So, it’s, uh, it’s fine.” _

“it’s  _ not. _ ” Sans insists. He can’t stop talking, like that one apology was the one thing holding the whole dam of regrets he’s been keeping close to his chest together. “you’re my best friend, alph, and i fucked up. i - “ Sans’ voice cracks, “i don’t care if you tell on me or whatever, i deserve it.”

Alphys sighs,  _ “I wouldn’t t-tell on you… but, um, I  _ w-would _ suggest that you rethink your p-plan…” _

“already done.” Sans tells her, “i, fuck… i can’t do that to him - to red. I, i, i had it wrong the entire time, i’m such an idiot…”

_ “T-tell me at school?” _ Alphys offers with a hint of hope in her voice. 

Sans lets a small grin come over his face, “yeah, at school. see ya, alph.”

_ “Bye, Sans…” _

When Alphys hangs up, Sans spends a long time staring at his ceiling wondering where exactly he’s going to go from here.

He can’t go back, stars, he’s done too much to go back, but he can try to move forward. Past his crush, past all this confusing muck of emotions.

_ (it’s so much easier being an asshole.) _

But sometimes… the things you want in life aren’t easy. And Sans knows what he wants. He just doesn’t know if he’s allowed to have it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RED'S POV:
> 
> red wakes up in pain, decides to check out the damage and finds that his face and ribs are in terrible shape. he has a moment of anger where he blames his mom and frisk for letting wing hurt him, then tears down his new clothing from his closet, shoves it in a bag, and leaves it outside of frisk's room because he 'doesn't need her help'. wants to clean his wounds, but it hurts too much to do so and he can't skip school, so he puts on a beanie and a his hood and heads off to the bus stop.  
> ___
> 
> red: my ribs feel like they're broken but im ok
> 
> sans: im such a bad person, woe is me, nobody will ever know my suffering, my pain - 
> 
> __  
> no interaction between the boys this chapter, but rest assured, it's coming soon............
> 
> and i don't think you'll be disappointed................ >>;)
> 
> __  
> leave a comment if you'd like and remember to stay safe!


	17. sins of the hurting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> red doesn't even realize how many people want to help him qwq
> 
> .... sans doesn't even realize how much he wants to help red

School sucks a whole lot more than Red remembers, but that’s probably because he can’t even doze off in class with the damage on his face. First and second period came and went. It had been depressingly easy to hide what had happened from Red’s peers and teachers.

… Key word, it  _ had _ been easy. 

It had been easy right up until English. Everything’s pretty much been going downhill since then.

Some part of Red knew that Ms. Kain would probably want to know the deal with his hood, since she was the most common culprit of asking him to take it off. Usually she has something sunny to say along with her request,

_ “Show off that lovely smile!” _ or something equally cheesy.

It’s why he hunches his shoulders and holds his breath as he enters her class. She’s out by the door, like she always is, welcoming in students. They greet her back with differing levels of enthusiasm, some giving her high fives, others mumbling a few words before brushing past her.

She’s always cared more, Red feels. About students and shit.

Red doesn’t need anyone to care about him. He’s gotten along for years just fine without any help. Before Frisk, before Sans, before Ms. Kain, he was doing fine. 

Sure, his dad is an asshole. But he’d handled it.

Friends,  _ connections _ … they make him weak. Because now it feels like he’s losing his mom all over again. And it just hurts more every time he thinks about Frisk or any of the others. Because they’re just reminders that he’s not allowed to have nice things, that he doesn’t deserve them.

Ms. Kain tries to catch Red gently by the shoulder when he passes, but Red shrugs her hand off and hurries to his seat in the back.

She’d freak out for sure if she saw his face. She’d probably send him to the nurse and call the principal.

Because Ms. Kain cares more than the other teachers. Red would be dumb to assume that she cares about  _ him _ in particular. That’s just how she is.

Throughout the entire class, Red sits quietly and pretends to take notes. Several times Ms. Kain tries to call on him to answer questions despite his ducked head, but he only shrugs and mumbles something incoherent.

She leaves him be after the second time.

Red pretends not to hear her calling for him after class. He doesn’t need any whistleblowers.

_ no whistleblowers, _ Red tells himself, forcing himself to remember what happened last time someone found out.

_ no whistleblowers. _

Again, just for good measure.

It’s just when Red thinks he’s got it under control that shit starts to go sideways.

“Hey, Red!” A cheery voice calls out when Red enters the cafeteria. He nearly trips when he hears it, not knowing anybody who would willingly talk to him during school hours. When Red looks around, he finds Guy waving his hands over his head from a few tables over.

When he sees that he’s got Red’s attention, he pats the empty seat next to him with a huge grin. “Hey, hey! You wanna sit with us today?”

The other monsters at the table - an apathetic looking cat monster and some artsy type looking kids - give Red a curious look, but don’t seem to care either way.

Red’s never been invited to sit with somebody at lunch. H-He’s always just holed up in some hallway, eating alone.

To his complete mortification, tears start to well up in his eye sockets, and he has to painfully rub them away before anyone can see. It doesn’t help the tentative scabbing of the cracks on Red’s face, but he can’t let anyone see him cry. Can’t show weakness.

_ why today? _

Why today of all days?

Why, when Red’s just decided that he doesn’t need anyone, is everyone trying to buddy-buddy up?!

Red hasn’t even talked to Guy before last week for two whole years! Was a little conversation really enough to spark the rabbit’s interest in him again? Red is the  _ least _ interesting person in the entire school!

Red shakes his head and looks down again before scurrying off to a secluded hallway where he doesn’t have to worry about anyone trying to talk to him, or stars forbid  _ worry _ about him.

He doesn’t see the way Guy’s ears droop when Red turns away.

Doesn’t hear the bunny monster when he turns glumly to his boyfriend,  _ “Aw,” _ He says.  _ “I wanted you to meet him. Red’s a good guy!” _

_ “Right.”  _ The cat monster beside him says,  _ “You need to stop picking on random kids.” _

_ “I’m not picking on him!” _ Guy insists,  _ “We’re really friends. Or… we were back in freshman year.” _

_ “Did  _ he _ know that? _ ” The cat snickers as Guy playfully slaps his arm and gasps with faux-indignance.

In fact, Red can only hear the beating of his own SOUL as he hurries through the halls to find an appropriately secluded place.

It’s just his luck on this weird, terrible day, though, that he happens to run into someone else. Quite literally.

He almost drops his tray of food, but a blue hand swipes it just in time.

“FU HU HU!” A familiar voice laughs, “Caught it!”

Red peaks up to see Undyne grinning down at him, holding the tray in one hand, everything perfectly balanced. With her free arm, she flexes, “CAPTAIN UNDYNE STRIKES AGAIN!” He can only watch in stunned silence as she hands him the tray.

“... th-thank ya…” Red says meekly, taking the tray with two hands. He wants to walk by her and pretend the interaction never happened, but apparently Undyne’s fishy memory is good enough to recall the one kid she helped a while back.

She stops him from passing with a much firmer hand on the shoulder than Ms. Kain had used.

“HOLD UP! Is that you, punk?” Undyne realizes her mistake quickly, “Er, I mean, Red?”

Caught, Red can do little more than nod and sigh. “hey, undyne.”

“What’s up?!” She asks, flexing again. “We haven’t talked in awhile!”

_ red didn’t think she ever wanted to speak to him again. _

“um, ya know…” Red cringes at the sound of his own weak voice, “s-school ‘n’ shit.” Stars, he wants the ground to swallow him hole so he can just sink to the middle of the earth. That way he doesn’t have to listen to himself be such an awkward piece of garbage.

“UGH!” Undyne loudly exclaims, “I KNOW! School can SUCK sometimes!”

“... yeh…” Again, Red tries to sneak past Undyne, but her grip on his shoulder remains firm. Should he call for help? Would anybody come save him from a giant muscle fish trying to have a friendly conversation?

“But you know what DOESN’T suck??” Undyne thrusts a few oddly shaped papers in front of his face. Red stumbles back a little, only keeping his balance due to Undyne’s hold on him.

They’re… tickets?

“The school is having an EPIC Sweetheart Dance!! Didja wanna ticket, squirt? It’s in two weeks!”

_ Huh. _

Guy had mentioned a Sweetheart Dance back when they last talked. Red had turned down going with him and his group because he didn’t think he’d want to go…

… And looking back.

Yeah. Red is pretty sure he doesn’t want to go.

“... i’m…. i’m good.” Red replies.

Undyne seems to deflate and finally lets Red go. “Aw, okay. I’m helping my girl’s friend, Metatton, sell tickets. He’s running the show, y’know. A total diva, but he’s a good guy. You should meet him!”

Red reflexively shakes his skull, not liking the idea of meeting anyone else new. “no thanks.”

“Pft, okay, squirt. BUT! If you ever need tickets, you know where to get them!” With that, Undyne waves him off and starts sprinting down the hall, probably to try and sell some tickets.

Red stares after where she went in a little bit of a daze. What a hurricane of a woman.

… It gets to the point where he almost expects Alphys to burst out of the nurse’s office when he passes and start talking to him. She doesn’t, though, which is a small relief to Red. He might start crying for real if someone else walks up to him and starts being nice.

The rest of the day isn’t quite as exciting. Red eats his lunch alone, goes to math and sits silently, and does the same for the rest of his classes.

But his nerves start to ramp up during seventh period. He’s going to have to face Sans during tutoring.

Meeting up with Sans is an event all on its own. Red usually has to prepare himself for the stupid flirting that Sans spews throughout the session, but it’s different.

Sans took him home. Wing saw Sans. Wing told Red to keep his mouth shut around Sans.

_ Red can’t let Sans see his face. _

…. That plan goes out the window as soon as Sans walks into the library and shoves a dozen light red carnations right up in Red’s face, causing him to sneeze and his hoodie to uncover his skull.

Sans drops the flowers.

* * *

The morning can’t pass fast enough. Sans doesn’t share any classes with Alphys, meaning that the earliest time they can talk if Sans doesn’t skip is during lunch.

And, boy, does the time  _ drag. _

When the bell signifying the end of fourth period rings, Sans practically sprints towards Ms. Acken’s classroom, where he knows Alphys has AP BIO. He manages to catch Alphys just as she’s leaving class.

She takes in his disheveled, panting, state and gives him an amused smile.

“C-Come on… we can talk i-in the nurse’s office…”

The two grab lunch before Alphys sneaks them into the office and locks the door behind them. 

“Th-There… what did you t-talk about? R-Realize your undying love f-for Red yet?”

Sans’ blush is an answer all on its own. Alphys’ eyes widen comically behind her thick glasses and she gasps in delight.

“Y-You  _ did! _ Ohmygod!! I-I ship it s-so hard!!”

Sans whines in embarrassment, “ _ alphys… _ i… i don’t know what to do. _ ” _

_ But he does. _

_ (leave red alone. he deserves better than me.) _

“...” Alphys sits in silence of a little, a dopey grin on her face as she clicks on her phone and scrolls. “... T-The dance!”

Sans quirks a brow bone at her, “excuse me?”

“T-The dance!” Alphys repeats, turning her screen towards Sans so he can see. On it is the school advertisement for the Sweetheart Dance.

_ (huh) _

_ (forgot that was a thing for a second.) _

He takes the phone from Alphys' claws, who sits eagerly as he goes over the information. The dance is in two weeks from now, tickets must be bought in advance…

… When Sans looks up, Alphys is smiling widely at him with her hands clasped together. “Y-You could ask him out! With, with flowers!! A-and - “

The stocky skeleton listens as Alphys rambles on about how some character in an anime she likes had asked out their own love interest. A warm feeling builds up in his SOUL the longer he listens to her little rant.

Sans… hadn’t realized how much he’s really missed her over these past two months or so. He hasn’t really spoken to her outside of small arguments since the beginning of winter break.

When Alphys finishes speaking, she looks towards Sans expectantly.

He chuckles.”that’s great, alph, but, uh….” His insecurity makes itself known as his voice trembles, “... i’ve been just fucking awful to him. i don’t think red likes me at all.”

“... W-Well…” Alphys says, “Y-You’ve hung out everyday a-after s-s-s-s-school for like, like a month now… h-he has to like you a-at least a  _ little _ , right?”

Sans opens his mouth to once again deny this fact, but his voice gets caught in his non-existent throat.

_ Does Red dislike Sans? _

Sans thinks of the last time he saw Red. When he’d taken the small skeleton home. Then, he thinks of the fight that had led to Red being in his care…

_ Sans had watched as Red slipped and hit his head. _

He and Red had been arguing over something dumb. Red had… Red had been angry at Sans.

_ (he had every right to be) _

Red was upset. 

_ “‘cause we’re not friends.” _

Sans thinks back to Red waking up in his bed, scared. He remembers Red flinching away. Red was  _ afraid _ of him.

… But if Red was really afraid of him, then would he have called Sans an idiot? Would he have told him the truth, explained himself?

_ (ugh) _

_ (i’m thinking about this too much) _

Of course Red hates Sans, Sans has been making his life as terrible as he could for a month…

“... pretty sure he hates me.” Sans finally sighs.

“Hmph…” Alphys grunts, “B-But you like him, right?”

Sans blushes again and tries to play it off by pretending he’s wiping something off on his face. “thought we already established that… yeah.”

“Th-Then you should at least t-try! I-I can help…”

The blue toned skeleton listens as Alphys describes a highly romanticized plan to him. Within are periodic squees and breaks so she can make a note in her phone about something she found particularly cute.

…

It ends up with Sans holding a dozen light red carnations in hand. He’s standing outside the library, hands nearly shaking with nerves.

He... He shouldn’t be doing this. He already told himself that he wouldn’t intrude on Red’s life anymore.

But what can it hurt? If Red hates Sans, he’ll say no. But if there’s even an inkling of feeling there… then he might say yes. Sans just has to cling to that chance.

He’d gotten the flowers from Muffet. Apparently the Mettaton is the lead organizer of the dance, and had put the infamous money-sucking spider in charge of marketing. She had the idea to sell flowers along with the tickets. 

So Sans had ended up buying two tickets and a dozen flowers for two dollars a pop.

Sans had tried to weasel out of buying the flowers, but Alphys was having none of it, and Muffet backed her up by insisting that he’d surely win over his interest’s SOUL with flowers.

_ He just doesn’t understand why he had to buy twelve. _

… If nothing else, maybe Red will appreciate how much money Sans just blew.

Pushing the doors to the library open, Sans sees Red sitting at their usual table instantly. The little skeleton isn’t wearing a cute skirt today, and his hoodie is pulled up to completely hide his skull. Red’s posture is hunched.

… Sans hasn’t seen Red like this since they first started tutoring. He hadn’t realized but before, but Red’s really changed a lot since then…

It feels weird to see him so closed off after all this time.

_ Is it because of what happened yesterday? _

Sans proceeds with caution. He decides to let the flowers speak for him first.

… But even that backfires when Sans shoves the flowers into Red’s face and the tiny skeleton sneezes loudly, the hood falling back off of his head.

The first thing Sans notices is the beanie. The second thing he notices is the sheer amount of  _ red _ on Red’s face. And it’s not from blushing, like Sans has seen him do more than a few times.

No, it’s from the bruises and barely scabbed over  _ cracks _ on Red’s face.

Sans drops the flowers and takes a step back. Then another.

What the fuck?

_ (what the fuck?) _

_ (what the fuck?) _

_ (what the FUCK?) _

Red looks up at Sans with tiny, terrified eye lights. He’s shaking in his seat, sharp teeth slightly parted.

_ Sans has to calm down _ .

He has to think… rationally.

“what happened?” He blurts.

Red looks down and pulls the hoodie back over his skull quickly. “... nothin’.” He mutters.

The shock that had overcome Sans suddenly turns to a small burst of anger.

“d-don’t lie!” He exclaims, “i can see that  _ s-something _ happened! who hurt you?!” The small flinch that Red does in response to Sans’ tone reminds him that he’s in a delicate situation.

Sans takes a few calming breaths.

“ya can’t tell no one.” Red whispers pathetically from under the hood.

“like hell i can’t!” Sans barely stops himself from yelling, but it’s still not as soft as he would have liked to have been, “someone beat your fucking face in! you told me that you don’t get into fights, was that a lie?”

Red’s shoulders droop in shame.

“...”

“... if i tell ya.” He says hesitantly, “then ya can’t to no one else, okay?”

Sans looks at Red incredulously, expecting it to be some sort of joke. But it isn’t. Red remains hunched over, defeated. Sans can hardly stand to see Red this way. Red should be strong, angry, fierce. This isn’t Red.

_ Sans remembers with a note of shame how many times he’s made Red look this way. He looks down at the flowers and feels terrible. _

“... i won’t tell anyone.” Sans tells Red. The tiny skeleton looks up in surprise, but Sans holds up a hand. He isn’t done. “as long as you let me clean you up, okay? it’s not a joke when i say your face hurts to look at.”

Red is quiet for a few moments, as if to think it over, but eventually nods in agreement.

“... okay.”

Sans sighs and leads Red to the nearest school bathroom, where he sits Red down next to a wall and grabs a few paper towels. He collects his thoughts as he runs the towels under water and squirts a little soap on them.

When he turns back to Red, the small skeleton is curled up with his knees to his chest. Sans kneels in front of him and holds up the towels.

“this might sting, okay?” He murmurs gruffly, avoiding looking the injured skeleton in the eye.

“y-yeah.” Red sniffles. He sounds on the verge of tears.

Sans presses the wet towel to Red’s face and tries not to feel like the scum of the earth when the other flinches and whimpers. But he has to clean the injuries, so he scrubs gently until all the marrow and dried magic is gone.

The injury still looks red and angry, but it won’t get infected now.

“... so who did this?” Sans asks when he’s finished.

Red looks away and seems to get even smaller. “... my dad.”

Sans breathing nearly stops.

“... h-he hit me…” Red continues pathetically, “and kicked me…”

The small skeleton’s hand ghosts over his rib cage and San suddenly remembers that one time he’d wrestled Red to the ground and caught an eye full of the other’s spine and lower ribs. At the time, he’d written off the injuries…

_ Then he remembers how cold Wing Fellster had been to him yesterday. What his mother and father had told him _ .

He remembers all of the photos he has on his computer.

_ How could he have been so blind? _

“you need to tell someone.” Sans says without thinking. But Red shakes his head vigorously.

“i-i can’t. he’ll just get worse.”

Sans makes a frustrated noise, “how much worse can it get?! look at you!”

Red brushes a hand over his golden tooth and Sans understands all at once. He stays quiet.

They don’t speak of the incident after they leave the bathroom. The two walk back to the library and the tutoring session continues as if everything was normal. But it’s not.

Sans hates himself for not noticing earlier. He hates himself for how he treated Red. And he hates himself for not being able to do anything without Red getting hurt worse.

What could he do, after all? He’s just some high school slack off. Red’s dad is the royal fucking scientist.

…  _ But  _ his _ dad isn’t. _

Sans feels a spark of determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ack, sorry for the long break! originally i took a break for finals, but then ~life~ happened and i had to take a longer break qwq
> 
> but!!!! i'm still not fully back. might not be for awhile?? i wanna try and finish this fic before the one year marker, although that might not be possible,,,,
> 
> but but!!! this is probably the longest chapter in the entire fic! i think! and it's probably going to stay the longest chapter! so! special treat for you guys!
> 
> and for all of you who have wanted sans to suffer since the beginning.................... well. soon, my children, soon.
> 
> here's the poll --> [wow!](https://www.poll-maker.com/poll2624040xe52f4C2E-75)

**Author's Note:**

> >.<
> 
> yes i know i have an active cherryberry fic
> 
> yes i know i'm a slow writer
> 
> yes i know that i should have waited to post this
> 
> but did that stop me? no. follow your dreams. and i dream of kustard, so there.
> 
> also here's a link to my tumblr check me out i'm nice i swear. [please say hi to me](https://beanniebenn.tumblr.com)


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